


I Choose You!

by Jupiterra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Complete, Eventual Romance, France is a Persian, Human AU, M/M, No weird sex, Prussia is a steelix, Scotland is a Noctowl, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, mostly clean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 03:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 43,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16632443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiterra/pseuds/Jupiterra
Summary: In a world of Pokemon and humans, Ivan and Alfred are civil servants of New York City. Much like the world of Pokemon, their lives are about to become much more interesting and adventurous. Will they survive the changes coming for them?(also known as Hetalia x Pokemon: a love story)





	1. Chapter 1

Ivan Braginsky and Alfred Jones were roommates. They had always been roommates of one kind or another. Best friends just did that, even if they drove each other crazy. Summer camps as children. Dormitory buddies in private school, then university. Even when Alfred failed his engineering course, he stuck around to go dutch on an apartment. Not that it did Ivan any good.

For all the credits and student debt the bulky ash blonde built up, he was still stuck in the end. All this time and money spent, only to become a nurse at a Pokemon centre. It was _embarrassing_. Ivan was supposed to be a real doctor, not just a button pusher.

Alfred never seemed to mind, content to become a handyman after university. Mainly he did lesser electric work for the city. He had just come home from work looking positively tired. Laying on one entire side of their cheap L shaped sofa, the tanned blonde was still in his blue 'ManetriCo Electrical' jump suit. Ivan smiled softly at his entrance, closing the front door after and locking it. He then sat on the other side of the sofa, soft purple sweater tied around his waist.

“Good evening Alfred.” Ivan greeted, in a good mood for once. It wasn't that he hated his job, he just had this incurable urge once a month. Ivan instinctively needed to be somewhere or do something, but he didn't know what it was. Alfred had taken to calling it Ivan's 'man period' as a joke.

“Hmm. Wanna hear something funny?” Alfred rolled over slightly to look at Ivan, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Sure.”

“Gilbert was doing his thing today, and you wouldn't believe it. He tripped on the job.” As the other spoke, Ivan wondered how a thirty foot long steelix could trip. It was basically a giant metal snake. It didn't have legs. The apparently clumsy steelix was Alfred's pride and joy. Gilbert was the very last Pokemon from Alfred's successful trainer days. The nearly half ton Gilbert now enjoyed life as a crane and backhoe for Alfred's job. To say the enthusiastic steelix enjoyed his job was a huge understatement.

“How does a metal worm trip?” Ivan asked, genuinely curious.

“I think he got tangled in rebar? But it was damn funny.”

With Gilbert's cleaned ultra ball set on a special stand for the night, the men watched television. They finished off leftover spaghetti for dinner. Ivan watered his sunflora as it slept in it's dirt filled pot. He had accidentally acquired his one and only Pokemon as a teen. What a less educated Ivan had mistaken for compost had turned out to be a half dead sunkern. He was alarmed to discover the compost bin almost cleaned out the next day, a very demanding sunkern crying away at the bottom. The stubborn plant had been with him since, now slightly higher than Ivan's knee.

The sleeping Pokemon stirred from water trickling to its buried lower half. It was most content in it's traditional role of house plant. “Sunflora?” it spoke softly, only able to say it's own name like all pokemon.

“Hello cutie.” Ivan cooed, ruffling the golden yellow petals of the sunflower creature. It was very passive and sweet in it's own way. Not approving of slavery or war, Ivan was proud to know a pokeball was never involved with his favourite room decoration.

The sunflora moved it's two large leaves for limbs in the direction of the bedroom. Ah yes, sun lamp time. New York City was a busy place with not enough parks. Ivan make up for this by taking his sunflora to work, along with other luxuries. Namely, the beloved sun lamp time. 

Once parked beneath artificial sunlight, the plant type unfurled and fully bathed in the warmth. It would be like that for hours, so Ivan left to do dishes. Alfred was passed out cold, never having changed his dirty uniform. Ivan chuckled and carried the exhausted worker to bed. They technically shared a bedroom with two twin beds. There was curtain separator to create privacy. Neither man made enough to get a proper two bedroom apartment, even with combined finances.

Getting ready for bed himself, Ivan saw a glimmer of the moon through orange light pollution. It was only a sliver of white, a narrow crescent. Ivan was okay for now, but he knew as time went on his sleep would suffer. It was best to savour his rest while he had it.

Days went by slowly. Ivan was at work this day, in a Pokemon centre beside the local steel gym. He and sunflora would greet young foolish trainers that had been crushed by the local champion. Chansey, Blissey, and Audino would greet less critically injured patients. Ivan sat behind the main desk in his white nurse outfit, treating the fatally wounded.

Despite his many complaints, he was still forced to wear white with pink crosses like the nurses of old. Truthfully, male nurses were still a new thing, products of the gender equality crisis. Only four years ago, only women could become Pokemon doctors, and many female gym leaders wouldn't hire male trainers at all.

A young child, no older than 13, approached Ivan's desk. She looked ready to burst into tears. “Excuse me mister, where's the nurse?”

“I am nurse Ivan, how can I help you?” Ivan greeted mechanically.

“Aren't Pokemon doctors girls?”

Ivan sighed, he got this a lot. “No. How can I help you today?”

“Well, I was fighting the steel gym and... and...” There was already snotty sniffling. Why people sent twelve year old children out into the wilderness, Ivan would never understand.

“My pikachu used charm, and... and the lucario... it...” The girl then cried, clutching a heavily ruffled pikachu to her chest. Ivan came out from behind the desk, kneeling in his white and pink scrubs. He gently carried the terrified rodent.

It shook in his arms, clutching at his sleeves while barely conscious. “Pika, pika...”

“You gotta fix 'em mister.” Ivan sighed upon hearing this selfish plea, but nodded. At this, the child flashed her trainer registration number and took a chair alongside other trainers. Ivan quickly jotted the number down, cradling the injured Pokemon in one arm like a baby. It was obvious it was barely alive.

That was the one aspect of Ivan's job that he hated. All the Pokemon centres insisted you say 'fainted' instead of the truth. 'Passed out from horrible injuries and blood loss' didn't roll off the tongue as nicely. Ivan carried the Pokemon to the back room for examination. The pikachu was laid on a soft towel covering a scale, weighed and measured quickly. A little thin for Ivan's liking, with too many scars. Ivan did a discreet glance at the creature's backside, under that lightning bolt shaped tail.

Well. That anus was wrecked, completely and totally. Pikachu had laid on the charm on a little too thick it seemed. This was an extremely common injury with “cute” species that happened to know fairy type moves. Even according to Alfred, a lesser veteran, a trainer used charming or seductive moves at their own risk.

The male pikachu looked at Ivan with big pleading eyes, trying to convey _something_. Probably, it was “Dear Arceus don't put me back in that gym!” or “Keep me away from the crazy kid.” Ivan frowned in concern and began treatment. Technically he could use the pokeball healing machine and be done in five seconds. Ivan liked to stretch his mental muscles once in a while and use his very expensive medical training.

After rubbing medicated cream where need be, he bandaged up a few new cuts and set the now happy animal on it's feet. “Ok. I have to return you now.” Ivan said. It's poor ass would never be the same, but Ivan couldn't really fix that. He knew from bad bar dates that only time healed those wounds. The pikachu bristled at being moved, resistant. Ivan carried it out anyway. The girl was long gone, too impatient to wait. Ivan browsed the PC box activity on his computer. It seemed the young trainer had simply taken out another Pokemon and headed off. More company for Ivan then.

The pikachu and sunflora would wave at people as the shift went on. The little yellow creature was just so darn happy. It was time to trade shifts eventually. Carrying his potted sunflora in one arm, he had his lunch box in the other. It was summer, so Ivan didn't need his long coat.

Walking out of the Pokemon centre, he headed home. Since that idiotic trainer never gave Ivan the associated ball, a certain electrical rodent was following him _everywhere_. This happened a lot at work, but he usually had them digitized and stored on the computer by now.

“Shoo!” Ivan hissed. The pikachu hugged his leg, then scampered up the scrubs to perch on his burly shoulders. Arceus damn it all. Ivan had another uninvited house guest... again.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred could see most of the city from this high up. It was a jagged landscape of grey splashed with neon and bright colours. All part of the efforts to keep New York City interesting and popular no doubt. It took quite a bit of effort and money for people to leave the safety of villages. The sixty foot walls that protected the metropolis cost cash after all. Of course, without the walls, New York City would be nothing but ruins.

The last “free” city of Chicago fell decades ago, unprotected by the socialized military or walls. Any city larger than a few thousand was a city state these days, communication shattered after the internet was lost. Put simply, living in the world of Pokemon was dangerous. Humans lost their alpha status over three centuries ago when the first Pokemon first evolved from original animals.

With this perspective, Alfred was proud to be an electrician of sorts. He kept the city alive, essentially. It was more than being a Pokemon master would ever achieve. This reasoning was why Alfred never challenged the elite four of New York, despite having a great team once. He could never be a civil servant again if he won. Pokemon masters didn't get normal lives. They were sent to war, challenged for just walking down the street. Getting groceries was probably impossible.

A low growl of “Steel” rumbled under Alfred's butt. He looked down, not longer distracted with the vista view. A lot of the light was getting blocked by the outer city wall anyway. Gilbert, the most awesome steelix, was currently his ride and crane.

Harnessed with a series of straps to those impressive jaws, Alfred patted the shiny metal exoskeleton. “Ok, ok, let's get back to work buddy.” Suffice to say, Gilbert loved his job as a living tractor. Today he was Alfred's ride twelve stories off the ground. It was easier and cheaper to use Pokemon for such tasks. After all, most hydraulic and rig engineers had died in the New York Borough wars. The rest were very old men, not keen to teach or reenter the field.

Alfred honestly didn't _believe_ the claims of the elders. The concept of an 'internet', everyone speaking at once to each other across the planet, was ridiculous. All Alfred had ever known was scared outsider life or serving the city states as a trainer for war. You could barely travel to the next city state and survive, let alone _talk_ to them.

Focusing on work, Alfred stopped remembering such abstract thought. He had most of the wiring done by lunch, and decided to eat. Gilbert grumbled and hissed in excitement for food as always. His diet was easy to afford, rocks, metal, and random ground up proteins. Today was construction site waste with a few heads of cabbage and some miltank meat scraps.

Twelve stories up, the more brave crew ate and chatted together. Alfred ate while harnessed, eyeing his steelix carefully. Gilbert had been bad lately, not eating his vegetables. “All the cabbage, you.” Alfred scolded while eating his own magikarp salad sandwich. Gilbert sulked but ate all five heads of leafy goodness with a quick snap of jaws.

His milder twin brother, Matthew was not far away. He ate some kind of berry salad with his noctowl and delibird. “Still isn't liking the cabbage, eh.”

“He keeps burying the cabbage in the park, or it flinging off the side of the sky scraper.” Alfred replied. He knew the stubborn steelix didn't regret the actions. “Ivan said cabbage would help Gilbert's immune system but the brat won't eat the stuff.”

“So... Still live with Ivan?” Matthew asked slyly.

Alfred rolled his eyes. He wouldn't dignify it with an answer.

“I don't understand why you won't just date the guy.”

“Drop it Mattie.”

“You guys do everything together.”

Alfred groaned. “Why are you like this?”

“I'm bored mostly.” Matthew was such a cheeky bastard sometimes.

“Go like... work or something. Be a plumber like you're supposed to.”

Matthew laughed. Gilbert looked over, curious. Matthew offered a berry from his salad, which the giant metal monster took with absolute delicateness. This was no mere party trick for a thirty foot long Pokemon, taking years of trained discipline. Gilbert was, after all, Alfred's second Pokemon ever. They had been through everything together.

“Oh so he throws away my veggies but he'll eat your stupid oran berry salad.” Alfred complained, to no effect.

“Cabbage sucks is why.” Matthew taunted, hand feeding the rest of his lunch to a giant ham of a Pokemon.

After Gilbert dragged up the rest of the steel beams they would need the next day, it was time to quit. Alfred clocked out in the manager's mobile trailer office, then returned outside. Gilbert was laying on the ground, tired. He had worked a solid ten hours after all. “Come on. In the ball.”

The steelix rolled over, then twisted away in defiance. He hated being in his pokeball more than anything else. Alfred had no idea what the insides of one were like, but Gilbert was thirty feet long. He simply was not going to fit in a bachelor apartment. “I'll take you for walkies, but you gotta go in after.”

At this, the spoiled battle companion stopped being a brat. Steelixes were not fast creatures, so Alfred casually strolled while his pokemon slithered in the open streets. The shambling country had run out of gasoline decades ago, so there was no cars anymore. Steelixes roaming the open road was perfectly acceptable, alongside rapidash pulled chariots. The police officers had their arcanine cavaliers. Most electricians had zebstrika companions. Honestly, anything that could pull anything was legal.

A familiar sight was spotted, in garishly feminine white scrubs. It was Ivan a block over, in a tug of war with a bandaged pikachu. It was a lesser battle over his lunch box. “Hey Ivan, need the pikachu captured?” Alfred greeted, already pulling on his long insulated gloves.

“I am not playing with you!” Ivan argued with the electric rodent. The pikachu however, was having a blast. Once picked up, it stopped biting the lunch box and hung upside down off it. “Pika! Chu!” it squeaked at Alfred.

Gilbert, previously lazy and tired, rose tall and roared. “ **STEELIX** ”

Terrified, the pikachu hid under Ivan's scrub top and quivered.

“Well that was rude Gillie.” Alfred huffed. All the same, the problem was solved. Both humans walked home as evening sunk upon the city. Gilbert followed them at his usual sluggish pace. “So, how was Pokemon centre hell?”

“The usual, idiots. This thing here was just dumped off without it's ball so I have to look for it in the PC manually. If I can't find it's entry code in a few days, its considered abandoned.”

Alfred looked at the happy pikachu perched on Ivan's shoulder. It hardly looked abandoned, nuzzling the tall man's hair until it stood on end with weak electric charge. “I think it already found a home, Ivan.”

“No. We don't need more pets. Gilbert already costs money to feed.” Ivan looked defeated as the pikachu hugged him and gave him a lick. “Stop kissing me rat, I'm trying to be serious.”

“Oh come on, it's cute.” Alfred teased. In his younger years, he would have started planning a fitness and training program to get the Pokemon battle ready. Now days, Alfred was happy to see the thing get fat in Ivan's smothering care. War was for the young and stupid.

At the foot of the sixteen story apartment block called home, the journey ended. “Sunflora.” Sunflora noted in stoic manner. Alfred wondered what the hell that even meant, looking back to the large metal creature that followed them.

“In the ball time. Be good and I'll make you a good lunch.” Alfred promised. Gilbert clearly didn't believe him. “... with no cabbage.” Finally, the oversized brat of a Pokemon was willing to stay in his ball. Alfred attached the ultra ball to it's belt holster. The other five empty slots now held skittles instead of Pokemon. Arceus bless those damn delicious skittles.

Resting on the couch. A dinner of greens with soft boiled eggs. Talking about the lesser nuances of their day. This was the schedule Alfred had come to live by. It was getting really fucking annoying at work that people assumed he was gay. Sure he lived with a male nurse known to be gay, but Alfred wasn't like that. He was just a good friend helping with the rent. Men could be friends and not have sex! Alas, one of the struggles of a matriarch ruled society.

About to pass out during an episode of 'Fearow Factor', Ivan's mumbled words jerked Alfred awake. The ashen blonde fool was looking dreamily out the window again at the moon. He was almost in a trance. Oh no, not again. Alfred didn't understand why this kept happening, but it was getting worse with age. Ivan was never this feverishly mad before a full moon until he turned fifteen. Since then, Alfred had been his lesser keeper.

“Ivy. Earth to Ivy.”

“... The moon. It's almost full. I want to touch it.” Ivan mumbled, a man obsessed. He wouldn't even look away from the light polluted night sky, face pressed against the window.

Alfred sighed and changed the channel. It was the weather network. “... so tomorrow be prepared for this rare and unusual event.” “That's right! A fairy moon only happens once every fifty years. Expect lots of nidoran and clefairy activity after hours. For you party lovers, the moon stone festival is coming to town tomorrow. Show city state pride and stop by!” “Thanks Jenny! Back to you –”

Boring! Alfred changed the channel, settling on a cheesy action film. It was 'Fast and Furious 3: Dodrio Drift'. Ivan would say the Pokemon racing movie was stupid and bitch the entire time it was on. The only good thing about Ivan currently being brain dead was TV remote access.

With one last look of concern at his long time roommate, Alfred watched the movie. He could only hope the brilliant doctor's mind would return before the next shift at work.


	3. Chapter 3

There was something very wrong with Ivan. Alfred covered for his best friend, lying to the Pokemon centre. “Under the weather” he had claimed over the phone. The only weather in the apartment was crazy rain. Ivan was feverishly mad, making no sense since yesterday. He was spewing ramblings about life beyond the stars and the moon. Short of a deoxys waltzing into their apartment, Alfred thought all alien life theories were taurus shit.

Alfred couldn't just keep taking days off to guard his loony roommate. He could fix this! That's what Ivan did all the time for him when things broke. Gingerly, Alfred looked into the bedroom. It was almost evening, and Ivan was a wreck. He was rocking in the corner, clutching a fluffy blanket. His eyes locked on Alfred, but they were distant and unseeing.

Ivan's eyes had always been interesting, a deep blue easily mistaken for purple. People had exotic eye colours all the time, but it was always contact lenses. Humans weren't supposed to have turquoise or neon orange eyes. Science had proven that again and again. The only reason Pokemon had such bizarre shapes and colours was due to harmful environmental exposure.

Alfred wasn't much of a believer, but the local Arceus church claimed the world was changed when the first Pokemon appeared. Be it Latter Day Arceusts, Pentecostal Arceusts, or the more modern Lutheran Mew focused Arceusts, they all agreed on one point. The very first Pokemon tore a hole in reality _somehow_ , or at least ignored the laws of physics. Unstable energy had been saturating the world ever since. This cataclysmic event destroyed an advanced global society and mutated the virginal DNA of all life. Trying to find the genetic material of original animals wasn't even possible now.

All this disaster affected the planet, except for humans. They were possibly the only large non-Pokemon species left. No one could explain it. Even so, Alfred suspected a recent hike in energy pollution was the cause of Ivan's suffering. People _probably_ became brain damaged from that stuff? Maybe the rare “fairy” moon rising tonight was the last draw after living in a city too long? Having this many people and Pokemon packed into a walled city couldn't be good for anyone.

Without warning, Ivan was up and responsive. He threw the blanket aside and stormed over to Alfred. He looked downright possessed as he seized the honey blond by the shoulders. “Tides are shifting, the stones left behind from the moon. Celestial destiny. The small ones were right!” Ivan spoke frantically, like the words were scratching their way out of his head.

“Uh... sure bud.” Alfred nodded skeptically.

“Stones from the tide of the moon, Alfred.” Ivan was clearly of unhealthy mind, looking extremely frustrated.

“Okay... so... I'm going to call a doctor.”

Ivan released Alfred and groaned. It seemed he was trying to communicate something in his scattered state, but it was very unclear. Dragging hands through his shaggy hair, Ivan was not giving up whatever this was. “Heart of the moon! I need the stone of the night tide, the tide of the sky! _I need the stone_! **I need the stone**!”

Once more he retreated to his corner, rocking as he sat and clutched his head. Alfred didn't know what to do anymore, completely overwhelmed. “I'm right on that buddy. You keep in that room okay?” he lied anxiously, backing away. Gently closing the door behind him, Alfred covered his face with a palm. A long deep breath later, he walked over to the phone.

He dialed a number, then was connected by a human operator from the local hospital. After waiting a good ten minutes, he was talking to a live person. “Nurse Kathryn, how can I help you?”

“Hello, I need some advice for... a friend.”

There was a lesser sound of disbelief from the other end of the call. Yet the woman he spoke to carried on in chipper fashion. “What's the problem with your friend?”

“Normally, he's real smart and stuff. But the full moon is coming and he lost his mind. All he's doing is pacing and talking about stars and... I don't know what to do and he won't calm down.” Alfred confessed instantly, having stressed over this for an entire day.

“First of all, breathe sir. He's going to be okay.”

“He will?” Alfred responded instantly, hanging on to the medical attendant's every sound.

“Yes. This behaviour is common during rare celestial events. Most likely, there is underlying stress that lead to this snap in behaviour. The full moon was probably just a trigger for a coming anxiety attack or breakdown.”

The more the nurse lady talked, the more she started making sense. Alfred relaxed tense shoulders, slumping his posture slightly. “So... what do I do to help him get over this?”

“Play along in a safe manner. Keep him away from anything he can get hurt with. With a good rest and time away from whatever stressed him out, your friend will be himself.”

Alfred teared up a little, grateful. He didn't call the help lines often, but when he did it was bad. This was a full on Alzheimer situation, and he honestly couldn't deal with it. Alfred wasn't a doctor by any stretch of the imagination. He was a failed civil engineer and full time handyman. He wasn't _made_ for this shit. “Thank you miss. I though he was like, dying or some shit.”

“No problem. Call again if your friend develops new symptoms, or send him to the hospital.”

Bidding goodbye after, Alfred hung up the phone. He was careful not to tangle the tightly coiled phone cord. When Ivan came around, he would be such a prissy bitch about it getting knotted. Good old Ivan. 

Walking back into the bedroom, Ivan had resumed pacing. “So. You wanted a stone... of the ocean... thingy?” Alfred asked brightly.

“A heart of the moon!” Ivan wailed, now openly weeping from madness. His pale complexion was mottled with stains of tear tracks. He looked to be suffering immensely from nothing. It was probably because he had not eaten or drank in hours.

Alfred fetched a few cookies and a glass of water. “Hey crazy pants. Wanna cookie?”

Ivan paused his erratic roaming, locked onto the sugary treats. “Cookies.”

“That's right, big tasty sugar cookies.” Alfred waved one in front of the hungry man. The responsiveness was surprising. Ivan quieted down immediately, grazing on the treat. He did it straight out of Alfred's hands like a pet Pokemon. The pikachu that followed Ivan home was still around but terrified, finally showing it's face after six hours of hiding. It was also interested in the cookies.

“Pika.”

Alfred shook his head with a sigh, but waved it in. Crumbling the cookies into smaller pieces, he hand fed his deranged roommate and an electrical rat. The insane man was now licking crumbs off Alfred's hand, finally muted in his “stone” ramblings. The honey blonde had to guess Ivan was talking about moon stones. No other stone sounded all that close to his words. If it was a water stone, he would have said it was blue. Water stones were renowned for being indescribably blue.

Of course, If Ivan was hell bent on getting a moonstone, Alfred was not paying for it. Those things were excessively expensive for common sense. Crumbling the last cookie, Alfred talked as he watched the strange feeding ceremony. “Alrighty then. You want a moon stone? I'll get you a pretty lookin' one. But I'm using your wallet.”

Ivan seemed okay with this... for now.


	4. Chapter 4

Ivan woke slowly, pleasantly, to a new day. It was a good full body stretch, the kind that make you feel warm after. He took his luxurious time, sitting up and yawning. He couldn't recall ever going to bed in the first place. The only clear memory was getting distracted during some mind numbing TV show. A moon, nearly full, as it peeked above the many walls of New York. It had been to romantic to see.

Anything after that was a blur. Now he was... home in the morning? The man shook his head of such confusing things. Ivan had probably been stress drinking that accursed oddka again. He had never fared well with alcohol, quick to black out.

In the motions of pushing up off the twin bed, Ivan's right hand was stabbed by something tangled in the bed sheet. He hissed in pain, but held in any curses. It would be rude to wake up Alfred one curtain over. The perpetrator was a dull grey stone the length of his now bleeding palm. It was jagged and cold.

“What the hell?” Ivan mumbled quietly, carefully handling it. Ivan could have sworn it was a moon stone, having seen a few back in medical school. However, this one was _broken_. It didn't have that famous silver lustre to it, the rare energy that made it unique.

Starting to really bleed, Ivan rushed to the bathroom – Bang! His head smacked hard into the top of the door frame. “FUCK!” Ivan blurted out in angry pain, dropping the fake moon stone. It clattered across the floor noisily. Across the tiny living space, in the bedroom, there was the rustling of sheets. Great, he woke up Alfred.

A frizzy haired blonde stumbled into the room, still half asleep. “Ivan?” Alfred mumbled. He squinted blindly without his contact lenses in.

“You should go to bed, You look like a mess.” Ivan greeted, all but immune to his roommate in nothing sleeping pants. Still, he enjoyed the view. It didn't hurt to look at such a fit landscape.

Instead of typical greetings, Alfred tackled him in a crushing hug. “Oh Arceus, I'm so fucking happy your back buddy! I thought you went brain dead!”

Enjoying the contact silently, Ivan waited a second before responding. He hadn't been touched in a while. “I don't know what you mean.” He slowly moved his arms, hesitantly, shyly, to return the gesture. This was a rare moment, a _special_ moment.

It was then a lost moment. Alfred retreated, face skewed with disgust. “Ugh gross you bled on me! Why are you bleeding?” He spotted the open bloody palm, brows raising in alarm. “What happened to your hand?”

Feeling a little dizzy from the exchange, Ivan shrugged at first. “I woke up and a fake moonstone stabbed me.”

“Fake? FAKE? That thing was not fake!” Alfred's indignity was only rivalled by his attention to detail. After putting in contact lenses, he fumed as he cleaned and bandaged Ivan's already clotting hand. It was lovely work, learned from Ivan in university. The taller roommate always used Alfred as bandage dummy back in the day.

A minute later, Alfred returned in a huff with two objects. A small ice pack and a receipt was handed to Ivan roughly. As he put the ice pack to his aching head, he read the slip of paper. It was from 'Persian Precious', a jewellers a block over. As true as Alfred's words, there the purchase was. One moonstone cost ten thousand dollars after taxes. Money was badly regulated in New York. It varied slightly in value from one neighbourhood to the next. Even then, that fake rock was three whole paychecks.

“YOU SPENT TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS ON A FAKE ROCK!? I TAKE ONE NAP AND YOU EMPTY MY SAVINGS ACCOUNT!” Ivan demanded, no longer sitting complacently on the edge of the bathroom tub.

“YOU MADE ME BUY IT!” Alfred yelled right back, only an arms distance away.

“I... what? I don't remember any of that.” The paler of the two men faltered in his furious accusations. He struggled to remember much of anything between seeing the moon rise and this morning.

“You don't remember going crazy and talking about aliens? You like, ate out of my hand. It was fuckin' weird.” Alfred's own anger faded, true concern showing once more.

“No! Why would I want a moon stone at all?” Ivan only became more confused.

Running hand through his stuck up bed hair, Alfred looked frustrated. “I'm... I'm not dealing with this right now. I'm tired, and I gotta be at work in like, three hours. Wake me up in two hours, okay?”

With that, Ivan was left to his own devices. He mostly stared at his hand for a minute. Pikachu walked in, hopping on the toilet seat. After, it leaped onto the vanity and turned on the water. Washing itself in the sink, it looked to Ivan.

As cute as ever, it opened it's mouth to speak. “What was that drama all about? Too much before breakfast right?” It had a distinctively male voice, thickly laden with the famous Bronx accent. The pikachu was making actual words. People words.

It was official, Ivan was insane. “You can talk.” he stammered, keeping quiet for Alfred's sake.

“I talk all the time. No one listens. Well, you do, a little. It's nice.” Words were still coming out of pikachu's adorable little face.

“You... can _talk_.”

“Yeah. I can. What's it to you?” Such a strong masculine voice coming from a cute fluffy pikachu. It left Ivan reeling and mentally nauseated. It was going to make his job exponentially harder as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oddka = Vodka made from Oddish. Think bout it. It's a walking beet/potato with a face. Some crazy Russian is going to eat/drink that. Probably after turning it into a meme.


	5. Chapter 5

The Pokemon centre was cast in a whole new light with Ivan's new mental state. Inane chatter of 'Blissey', 'Chansey', and 'Audino' repeated over and over was gone. In it's place, was gossip to rival that of the human nurses. The Pokemon that worked here were no better than the girls around the break room water cooler. It was entertaining and even quite funny. Of course, Ivan pretended not to hear them. People that talked back to Pokemon were locked up pretty quick for being crazy.

There was a dark side to this change. After two days off on sick leave that Ivan couldn't remember, he was back to full time. The first annoyance was the pikachu that was now officially abandoned. Abandoned Pokemon were typically sent back to the professors that issued them. Failing that, they were distributed to civil services to work for the city. Lastly, the truly useless ones were simply released in appropriate zones.

“Pick this guy! Best nurse in the city! Don't waste your time on these other low lifes! He's the best damn hands in town!” The pikachu would not stop shouting next to Ivan's ear all day. It was like standing next to a stubborn newspaper promoter. He was beginning to prefer the numbing mantra of 'Pika Pi kachu!' from before.

“Can you just shut up for one minute?” Ivan groaned, only twenty minutes into his twelve hour shift.

The pikachu grabbed Ivan's face, squishing his cheeks. “You _saved_ my life from that crazy bitch. I'm gonna tell everyone in this stinkin' town how great you are.”

“Why me.” Ivan sighed.

Several human nurses cooed and took pictures of the pikachu hugging his face. “When did you get a new pokemon? It's just the cutest!” one of them asked. “Look at their friendship already!” “Wow, a pikachu! I heard they're hard to train.” More vapid comments to stab Ivan's questionable sanity and patience.

“Hello.” Sunflora greeted dimly, just happy to be in the conversation. There seemed to be huge range of intelligence among pokemon. The pikachu was clearly a bright fellow. The sunflora was rather simple in comparison, only speaking up to three words at any point. Most 'slow' Pokemon were regarded by more intelligent species as lesser creatures. It was the very same attitude humans had about eating magikarps or miltanks.

Ivan managed to keep sane until around noon. It was the patients themselves that were getting to him. It was just so obvious how unhappy most Pokemon were about their lives. Hearing their words, seeing their battle wounds and fear, it was soul crushing. 

“Sad?” Sunflora asked during a lunch break, leaning over from it's pot at the table.

“Yes, I'm sad.” Ivan mumbled. He poked at his fried pidgey strips, the apricot dipping sauce ignored on the side. He just wasn't feeling that hungry today with all this misery about.

“Why sad?”

“It's the patients. They hate their lives. I don't know what to do about it.” Ivan answered freely, with no one else in the room.

Sunflora's petals drooped slightly. “Life sad.”

“That's just the way it goes. I mean, I've been through three trainers. They were all losers. But you, you're a winner. I'm with you for _life_ , buddy.” The pikachu was digging through the staff trash can as he talked. He climbed out of it with several fruit cores and a half eaten candy bar. “You humans are so strange, just leaving free food bins all over. This cheri bar is delicious.”

“This is weird, I don't even know what to call you.”

The pikachu cocked it's head while eating garbage. “What?”

Ivan shook his head, then tried again. A lot of Pokemon were rather dull to process things. “What am I supposed to call you? I can't just say 'pikachu'. I process hundreds of them a year.”

“You... want me to have a nickname?” The pikachu's brown eyes went wide and watery, incredulous yet overjoyed.

“Don't be like that... please... No, you're messing up my hair.” Ivan was too late to protest. The yellow creature was hugging his face, while still carrying trash. The garbage was now rubbing on his face. Great.

“You aren't gonna regret this. I'm gonna be the best pet you ever had. You can call me whatever you want fella.” The rough accent collided with the sentimentality of this statement. It made the whole encounter uncomfortable and strange. It was only made worse when another nurse walked in.

Still getting hugged by a garbage eating pikachu, Ivan was stared at by an employee.

“You look different today.” the woman commented. She wasn't wrong. Ivan had woken up slightly taller, his hair closer to white than ashen blonde. There was a lot of changes with him physically, and it was terrifying. He didn't know when these changes occurred, and he didn't know how they happened. The fact that he was missing two whole days from his memory was unnatural.

“I'm trying a different look?” Ivan asked more than stated, unsure how to respond. He still wasn't dealing well current events himself.

“Well. The purple contact lenses are nice.”

Ivan gave a twitching smile in response. He was so busy freaking out about getting an inch taller and twenty pounds heavier that he never noticed his eyes. Before, Ivan was barely short enough not to hit his head on door frames. A lesson he learned at least three times today. “Y-yeah. Contacts.” Ivan muttered. He didn't wear contacts, with near perfect vision unlike poor Alfred.

“Enjoy your... garbage pikachu I guess.” The woman left, having topped up her synthetic coffee.

It was some time later, and Ivan was at his nurse station. He was tending to a chatty meowth that would not shut up for anything. It had opinions galore. “Please stay still so I can bandage you.” He asked through gritted teeth.

“I don't have to do anything I don't have to, you're not my owner. See that ungrateful twerp over there? He's the only one that can be a jerk. You got nothing on me!” The finicky feline squirmed under Ivan's strong gloved hands.

“This guy is the best. You can't talk crap about him.” The pikachu interjected itself into the conversation, _again_. Immediately the temperamental rodent and cat were bickering like old women over what qualities Ivan had. The pikachu only boasted unrealistic good ones, while the meowth did the opposite.

“Why are you defending your owner? Are you a traitor?” the meowth accused. Ivan had actually managed to finish up dressing a nasty battle wound in all the commotion. He was now registering completed tasks and registration into the PC.

“No, because he doesn't make me battle! He lets me have fun! He understands what I say! So you can go eat murkrow because my master is the best!” The pikachu yelled this loudly in front of the entire packed waiting room. Ivan looked to his small yellow companion in horror, then to the room. Every Pokemon in earshot was staring at him. Easily a hundred eyes, taking his every move in.

“He understands us?” one blissey murmured in silky soft voice. It was one of the resident Pokemon nurses, working here for a decade or more.

“Yes.” Sunflora answered in his stead, innocently oblivious to most things. It resumed soaking in sun from a skylight.

The entire room burst into questions from every species. Ivan knew work would never be the same.


	6. Chapter 6

There was something wrong, but Alfred couldn't pin down what it was. His normally calm roommate was a living ball of stress. Ever since Ivan's madness fit, he seemed constantly on edge. Alfred was dreading having to talk with the man. The tanned blonde had never fared well with emotional interventions.

He was more of a side kick in that regard, standing off to the side. When Ivan first revealed his sexuality in college, Alfred was there by his side. He helped Ivan bear the ridicule and insult of being a gay man in a female dominated field. Occasionally a few punches were thrown in response. Regardless of being straight, it was still Alfred's job to be a great friend.

Besides, Ivan was flaming levels of gay. Alfred had known since they were twelve exactly what was going on. It was the way Ivan carried himself, his fashion, his choice in TV, his _everything_. The ash blond was an intimidating strong man draped in homosexuality, and flaunting it like fashion week. Well, former ash blond, since this whole crisis started.

Maybe Ivan broke from work pressure, so dyed his hair off white? Maybe he was into fashion contacts now? Was this a mid life crisis at twenty nine? There was flaws with this theory right away. First of all, Alfred had been in the apartment for every stage of Ivan's notable mental break. There was never a time when Ivan was out of direct supervision, lest he hurt himself by accident. This lead to an glaring issue.

When did Ivan find time to dye his hair and get contact lenses? How did he get tall enough to whack his head on door frames? What the hell happened into that ten thousand dollar moon stone? One day it was glowing with silver lustre, the next it was grey and dead. This was the conflict Alfred chose to tackle today.

The jewellery store was mostly on the way to work. Alfred left earlier than usual, for sufficient time in the store. Weaving between old and new skyscrapers, Gilbert and Alfred ended up at the location. It was glitzy place with golden writing for a business sign. 'Persian Precious' was written with utmost filigree on the glass doors.

“Wait here Gillie. You won't fit inside.” Alfred ordered.

The steelix grunted his own name in response. He proceeded to curl up on someone's wooden wagon like it was a pet bed. The vehicle groaned from the weight. Absently, the giant metal creature took a bite out of the wagon, chewing thoughtfully. Gilbert must have wanted a snack.

Honestly, it was the wagon owners fault for putting such a delicious treat on the road side. Plenty of rock and steel Pokemon ate wood as a source of dietary fibre. Not caring about public property, Alfred went inside.

The store was as glamorous as last time, including decorative marble pillars. Glass cases lined the walls, filled with gleaming stones, evolutionary or otherwise. A Mr. Mime in a suit and a Persian roamed the space, obviously the security for this business. A droll little man with the greenest eyes sat behind a glass counter. His wealth was as apparent as his thick eye brows, with a tailored suit to match.

“Yo, I bought a stone and it doesn't work.” Alfred stormed in, more than familiar with the place. This business did belong to his father after all.

“It's proper to greet your elders boy.” Father answered dryly, currently polishing a leaf stone to dazzling shine.

“It's proper to call your own son by their name, not refer to them like a piece of furniture.”

Father looked up at this, actually paying attention now. “Very well. How are you this fine day, Alfred Fredrick Jones?” The passive aggressive aura of Dad was nearly tangible as usual.

“Just _fine_ , thank you very much.” Alfred answered sharply, pressed for time. He had to be at work soon. “Okay. Why is my stone broken?”

Dad looked at the stone with fabric gloved fingers, carefully examining it. “Well, for one thing, It's been dropped several times. It's starting to crack. For another, It's used up. Whatever Pokemon you gave this to evolved already.”

This statement didn't register in Alfred's brain at first. When it did, he didn't really know how to deal with it. Naturally, he didn't process it well. “You're lying. I didn't give it to a Pokemon.”

“I don't lie boy. Maybe your pretty little boyfriend used it as a conduit for his curling iron.” Dad just oozed sarcasm today, in his own dry manner. He must have had a bad night sleep or bought a faulty batch of tea.

It still pissed Alfred off anyway. “He's not my boyfriend!”

“You've been living together for fifteen years.”

Alfred paused, flummoxed at this observation. It was true after all. “ _It's platonic_.”

“I'm surprised you remember such big words.”

That hurt. That honest to Arceus stung like fire. “You sent me away to a boy's school the second I turned thirteen. I can't help having more fancy words then good memories with you!” They had always been like this, bitter and angry. It was nothing like the gentle relationship Matthew and Dad had. Of course, Matthew had been born first. Matthew wasn't the twin that pushed Mother's body to it's limit, causing her to die from the exertions. Matthew wasn't the one that “killed” the love of Dad's life. Matthew wasn't a _monster_.

Mid argument, Dad paused his cutting accusations. He looked a lost a moment, and Alfred realized why. He was starting to cry. The tears were thick and salty. The blond sucked in a breath and internally chastised himself. He should have known not to show weakness in from of his cruel father.

Something so bizarre happened next that Alfred didn't know what to say anymore. Events like this were slowly becoming less rare. Maybe Dad was going mad after years of holding in his own feelings. The sandy blond elder left his post, and came out from behind his work counter. It was like two vicious predators approaching each other cautiously, not sure when the other would bite.

Even so, Dad carefully hugged his son. “Do stop crying dear.” he muttered.

Alfred froze, unused to the action. This was a trick. It had to be. After a long ten seconds, he conceded it was not, and warily returned the loving gesture. It felt... nice. “Okay.” Alfred whispered. Resting his head on Dad's shoulder, that terrible cologne hit him in the face. It stunk something horrible of synthetic oil, or maybe bio-chemical cleaning agent. Why Dad wore such a musk was beyond understanding.

The alien moment ended, as Arthur pushed away suddenly. “I've work to do, but I suppose I could spare a moment to see why your stone is faulty. No refunds, boy.”

“Okay.” Alfred sniffled, drying his eyes with a bright blue uniform sleeve. “I have work anyway.”

“Son?” Dad called out as Alfred was about to push out the glass doors.

“What?”

The words pushed and ground their way out of Dad's mouth like he was expelling burrs. They were unnatural, yet somehow taking form. “I... I love you.”

Terrified, Alfred fled the store.


	7. Chapter 7

The almost identical twins were perched at the top of the skyscraper, usual for a lunch. It was the nineteenth floor of this skyscraper. According to the foreman, it was the last to be build. Of course, this was not the only skyscraper to be assembled. With the population of New York starting to press against the outer walls, the only direction left was up.

“Dad has like... a brain disease or something.” Alfred finally spoke of this most disturbing morning.

“What?” Matthew responded, mouth full of sandwich.

“He hugged me this morning.”

At this, Matthew coughed up some of his food. He looked over incredulously as both his bird Pokemon shamelessly ate the coughed up food. Classy creatures indeed.

“Yeah. I know right?”

“He hugged you. The guy that wears gloves to dinner, _hugged_ you.”

Alfred had known his other half would understand. That was the best part of having a twin brother. With both of them fully independent adults, there really was no downside to having a bad ass sibling. “I knew you would get it. It gets weirder.”

“Oh he kissed you, said he loved you, and invited you to a warm Arceusmas dinner with roasted chestonuts?” Matthew's sass was really kicking today!

“Well... not all of that but, some of it?”

“No _way_.”

Alfred nodded in confirmation, “Yes way. He said he loved me.”

Matthew chewed the last of his food slowly, then swallowed. “Something is up. I'm gonna check it out.”

Alfred was relieved. Matthew was by far the favourite son. He had never battled for his Pokemon, never had to serve the army, aced all school courses. “Well, at least he won't be a dick to you.”

Like all things, lunch came to an end. Alfred went back to work. Running wires through the walls as dry wall guys come through. Finishing outlets and installing light fixtures. It was all par for the course, and he couldn't love the job more. Being in control of power, of the very light people needed. It was amazing. A crackle of a hand held radio informed him of the worst situation. “Rats on floor twelve. Go get 'em Alfred.”

Arceus damn it all. Rats was code for pichus and pikachus. They ate raw electricity like candy, costing the company thousands at open sites. Alfred was the only one brave enough, or stupid enough, to deal with the things personally. He had actually been shocked several times with only lesser burns.

Steelixes in general didn't deal well with skyscrapers swaying from wind. Today Gilbert was several floors down, helping Matthew instead. Big suck that he was. Alfred didn't need that oversized ham to deal with a few harmless pichus. He had one hell of an insulation suit.

Approaching the floor in question via unlit stairs, Alfred could already hear it. Squeaky cheers of “Pichu” and “Pikachu” echoed in the halls. Alfred marched over in his grounded rubber suit. Kicking a door open, the common sight was spotted. It was a chewed open wall, live wires hanging out. Some pichus and pikachus sang and danced, inebriated off the electricity. Others licked the wires while giggling in their own way.

“ **THE PARTY STOPS HERE BITCHES**.” Alfred announced, actually quite angry. He had just finished this room two days ago! So much effort wasted!

“Pichu!” one electric rat cursed. In a second, all the Pokemon scattered like panicking drunks. One was distracted, trying desperately to pry a conduit cover open. The bastards were doing this all the time. The fuse boxes and conduits of larger buildings were known to be popular substitutes for thunder stones.

“No you don't!” Alfred hissed, grabbing it by the tail. Just as the conduit cover fell off, the angry pikachu whipped around and bit him. It hurt bad, digging and tearing into the rubberized fabric. “You little – fuck stop biting me!”

In all the commotion, Alfred tripped on the debris and wires. In the burning fraction of a second before Alfred blacked out, He knew. He knew he had touched the wall conduit. He knew there was a hole in his glove. He knew he was dead.

Worst of all, Ivan was going to be _pissed_.


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred was late getting home. This wasn't unusual. The handsome blonde was always up to some kind of trouble. Still, Ivan worried. At first he picked at his baby blue sweater while seated by the door. After forty minutes of this, he was drumming fingers on the folding table nearby. An hour. Alfred was late by a whole hour.

Anxiety riddled Ivan's thoughts. What if Alfred was mugged? No, his steelix would have protected him. What if Alfred was lost or sick... or _hungry_. Starving little Alfred lost somewhere. No. Ivan was just losing in it. He didn't need to worry about his roommate. Alfred was tough, masculine, dependable. All the same, Ivan worried anyway. He paced madly for twenty more minutes, finally interrupted.

“For the love of Arceus, just call the guy at work.” the pikachu groaned, fed up with the sight. Ivan had to remind himself the pest's new name was Frank, or 'Frankie'. It had been a week and a half since the creature was understandable, and Ivan picked the most New York name he could think of. It suited Frank's pronounced Bronx accent, something expected of a truck driver or a construction worker.

“Frank, it's not that easy! He's... He's not mine to call. We're just friends.” Ivan mumbled, sitting again.

“No way you ain't mates. Call him with your... weird number box.” the pikachu assured, posing proudly in his new bow tie collar. Ivan had bought it from a pet store only a day before. It was mostly a means to tell his pikachu apart from other Pokemon on the street. Pikachu was a very popular species with young trainers.

Going to the 'weird number box', or wall mounted rotary phone, Ivan hesitated. He reached for the phone receiver, then wilted again. “I... can't.”

“What is the matter with you people? Can't even answer mating calls. By Arceus, it isn't that complicated!” Frank grumbled in exasperation, scampering up Ivan's leg. Perching on a muscular shoulder, the rodent used his stiff lightning bolt shaped tail to knock the phone off it's cradle.

“Stop that, Frankie. You're being rude.”

“Call him.”

At this, Ivan sighed. The crude yellow creature wasn't wrong. Ivan just didn't want to seem like that concerned nagging wife or sister that stereotypes always pulled on. If he did, he might seem uncool, or clingy. Maybe Alfred would leave if he was too overbearing. The mere thought of Alfred leaving made Ivan's chest's hurt. They were friends to the end, and the scared giant of a man wanted it to stay that way. Wasn't it a friend's duty to do something though? Such internal conflict!

“O-okay... Here I go.” One number was dialed, then another, and another. Six numbers later, a human operator confirmed the call and let it go through. An alien voice answered after three long rings. It sounded rough and dry, not unlike Frank. “Hello?”

“Is this foreman White?”

“Yeah. Who is this?”

“It's uh..” Ivan swallowed thickly, nervous. “... Alfred Jones's roommate, Ivan.”

There was a bellow of laughter, short and rich on the other end of the line. “Oh, his boyfriend! I was wondering when you'd call.”

Ivan's heart skipped a beat at the unofficial title, bringing a weak smile to his chapped lips. “Why?”

“He was sent to the hospital two hours ago. A few rats gave him one hell of a shock. I'm sure he'll walk it off.”

Terror stabbed Ivan's chest, cold and sharp. “W-what hospital?”

“Bellevue, north of the east village. The usual one was full.”

Ivan bid goodbye politely, fear chilling his soul. “He's in a hospital, something got him at work.”

“What's a hospital?” Frank asked, giving an adorable clueless blink.

“It's... a Pokemon centre for people. We have to go.” As Ivan grabbed his wallet and a sweater, the plucky Pokemon was only a few steps behind.

Despite Ivan's unceasing frugality, the terror and concern in his heart won out. He ended up paying for a taxi ride to the Bellevue hospital. It made the four mile journey half the time, and saved Ivan's already work weary feet. In the covered carriage, Ivan sat on a seat partially cushioned by growlithe fur.

“Fancy ride.” the pikachu observed, curled up on Ivan's lap.

“It can be.” Ivan replied, only to flinch when the wagon bumped over loose cobblestone. His head bumped the roof of the cab from the momentum. The clip clop of the two rapidash steeds pulling this thing never stopped their tempo.

When they finally arrived in front of the grand hospital, Ivan was relieved. He had never wanted to get out of a cramped space faster. “Two hundred dollars.” the cabby informed blandly. Ivan paled at the expense, regretting this already. That cost was almost a quarter of Ivan's food budget, and everything he had on hand.

“One fifty.” Ivan countered.

“We used the toll bridge, twenty five dollars a crossing. Two hundred dollars.”

At this, Ivan conceded defeat. The cabby was only ripping him off by a small margin, and New York was rife with inflation. Ivan gave the man his last two paper bills and a hand full of change. He watched it get secured in a locked compartment with great remorse.

The reason for this expense jumped foremost to Ivan's mind. _Alfred_. Poor Alfred that could be hurt. Poor Alfred that needed his help! Despite the stately brick appearance of the ancient Bellevue hospital, Ivan had no time to note it's beauty. He was sure there was a well marbled history to this place but he didn't care. His friend was hurt!

Ivan abused his Pokemon centre privileges. Human medicine only worked on humans, and Pokemon medicine only worked on Pokemon. Amidst the great medical divide, there was only one visual difference. The colour of the stripes on the white nurse uniforms. Pokemon centres used pink accents, while hospitals used mint green ones. Using this anonymity, Ivan pretended to look busy with a clip board. He slipped by hospital security in his work scrubs.

He got to the third floor before he had to finally interact with the staff. In intensive care, Ivan approached a nurse station. “Excuse me. I was directed here from downstairs. I'm here to visit Alfred Jones.”

The woman looked at her computer screen, confused. “I don't see that sir... Who are you again?”

“Ivan Braginsky. I'm on his emergency contact list, I've been here before.”

After a few clattering of keyboard buttons, there was a sound of blessed recognition. “Yes, you do have the appropriate clearance. Must be an error downstairs. Let me bring you to the patient.”

Ivan followed anxiously, following the woman into a secluded room. Paying no mind to his surroundings, he locked onto the sight before him. It was Alfred, perfectly still under thin sheets on a mobile hospital bed. He barely moved from breathing, hair frizzy and wild. It was always like that if Alfred didn't gel it flat for work. Eyes closed, the man seemed locked in slumber.

“What... what happened to him?” Ivan whispered.

“Electrical exposure. We just stabilized him enough for visitors. I don't know how you got your pikachu approved by security, but I must insist it doesn't touch any of the equipment.” The nurse warned Ivan sternly.

“Understood mam.” Finally left alone, Ivan completely fell apart. “A-a-alfred?” No response on behalf of Alfred. “Alfred Fredrick Jones, I'll be so angry if you don't wake up!”

“He don't look so good.” Frank noted, hopping off Ivan's shoulder to sniff everything in the room.

Ivan edged closer, beginning to sniffle. This was the third time he had been here for his stricken roommate. This was easily the worst Alfred had ever been, completely unresponsive. Nearing the corpse of a man, Ivan grabbed a wrist and squeezed. He received a small static shock from the contact.

This reaction didn't make any sense. Human beings were poor conductors of electricity. They were not capable of holding a charge unless it was in their clothes or a device. If the bed was holding a charge, Ivan would have been shocked from leaning on it earlier.

The pikachu was once more digging in a garbage can. Ivan had no intention of training the stubborn New York native, and ignored this.

“Alfred, I'm sorry. I wanted to talk to you about the changes last week. Maybe over breakfast. I am changing. Changed. I don't know. I'm just so scared to talk about it. I didn't want this to happen to you. I wanted to tell you...” Ivan didn't dare breathe the rest of that cursed sentence. It was a forbidden thought. An evil one. The fact of the matter was Ivan had come out to Alfred a decade ago out of love, or something like it. By then it was too late. He was so far in the friend zone, there no hope of escape.

So here he was after fifteen years, still following his crush like a ghost. The longing was bearable if he could live with the man, cuddle him during movies, talking often. So... so _pathetic._

The subtle rising of a chest mid breath. Nothing more. Beginning to cry, Ivan held Alfred's strangely hot body. It was like touching a hot water bottle. He cried a week of frustration, of internal fears, onto his roommate's chest. In a rare moment, Ivan mentally channeled all the affection he held for this man. It was almost instinctual, basal, in its function. In that snap second, the only thought was a short one. 

_I love you._

Without warning, Ivan was sharply exhausted. He collapsed into a nearby chair, feeling like he had run a marathon. As his gasping breaths calmed, the fatigue began to fade. 

A minute later, the most miraculous thing happened. Alfred's eyes opened slowly. Blue beautiful pools for irises Ivan could drown in, only they were different now. More artificially bright perhaps? “Hey there big guy.” Alfred greeted tiredly. Ivan's heart beat with joy at the sound. 

Alfred was okay after all. 


	9. Chapter 9

Alfred drifted in darkness for a time. He had brief shatters of dreams, mostly visualized regrets. Looking back in his life, seeing all the times his equipment was torn or faulty. Alfred was such a child to presume he was safe. His own ego blinded him a third time. This incident was the last, and Alfred was probably dead. 

Man, being dead sucked. There was supposed to be a guiding light or something. Maybe one of his dead family members could float by and tell him some puns. There was none of these things. It was just Alfred disembodied in the dark shadow before the very end.

One second, or perhaps an eternity passed. There was something in the nothing, a distant whisper of sound. “... to talk to you about the changes last week. Maybe over breakfast. I am changing. Changed. I don't know. I'm just so scared to talk about it. I didn't want this to happen to you. I wanted to...” It was very difficult to hear the rest. It was clearly a disarmingly soft male voice. A familiar voice.

Ivan was here?

Alfred didn't have much time to wonder about this. Feeling of being in a living body returned, warm and wonderful. It was akin to the building heat of a long cuddle. Fingers flexing, curling a few toes in celebration. Taking in a deep breath, Alfred willed his head to roll to the side. Good, he could do that. Next, he opened his eyes.

The room was pleasantly dim and windowless. It smelt of lemon cleaner. There was a print of a painting on the wall, directly above a seated Ivan. The man looked winded, like he just ran here. Wait... He could see details that far away without glasses or contact lenses?

Ivan's heart looked ready to fall out of his chest from surprise. “Hey there big guy.” Alfred greeted, hoping it would calm the other. It had the opposite effect.

The big softy was all over him in seconds. Hugs, friendly cheek kisses, it all came at him in one go. It was overwhelming yet nice. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? You could have died! You didn't even get work to call me, I could have been here sooner!”

“ _Yuck_.” an alien voice groaned from the garbage can in the corner. It was gruff and deep, reminding him of the foreman from work. It wasn't a voice Alfred was excited to hear.

Fearing insanity from this latest work accident, Alfred called out “Who's there!?”

Ivan's dirty little pikachu poked its face out of the garbage, chewing on something. It swallowed, coughed a little, then retorted “It's Frankie to you. Don't you forget it.”

“Nurse! Nur – Mmph!” Alfred was silenced by one of Ivan's big hands. Still weakened from almost dying, he couldn't resist much force. Ivan smelled nice today, which was weird. Normal he stunk of hormone neutralizer from work. They had to spritz the Pokemon centre with it sometimes to prevent battles. It was the equivalent of spraying water to break up cat fights.

“If you can hear the pikachu talk, blink once.” Ivan ordered.

Alfred blinked once, looking up into those unnaturally violet eyes. He recalled them being deep blue before. They were clearly not contact lenses. What the hell was going on?

“Okay, I can hear him too. You're not crazy. But you have to stop screaming and making noise. Can you please do that?” Ivan sounded very serious about this.

Alfred nodded, released. He took a fresh breath, not sure what to say. What was one supposed to say in such a bizarre situation? “So... I haven't been saying a lot about a few changes.” Ivan began speaking cautiously.

“Was it getting taller? Or the hair? Or the eyes? Or that fact that you could hear Pokemon talking, because we are fucking crazy?” Alfred's volume rose as he spoke, rattled with panic.

A nurse came in immediately, attracted by the sound. “I must ask you to be quiet, there is other patients trying to... Oh, Mr. Jones. You're awake.” She seemed almost shocked at his current state. Why she was so surprised, Alfred had no idea. Technically he dreamed he was dead, and he was awake and talking now.

That nurse was the beginnings of a deluge. Doctors of every creed and variety came through. Ivan was banished to the waiting room outside as Alfred was measured and poked to exhaustion. They all wanted to know how he recovered from the edge of death in minutes. Truth be told, there wasn't much to say. Alfred had been horrifyingly shocked by a wall conduit, then he just... woke up after. 

When it came to his own matters, Alfred was a man of few words. Of course, he never revealed hearing Ivan's voice in the drift of sleep. The sensation of possibly being hugged. Alfred wasn't all that familiar with the sensation, since Dad had never been keen on touching. Only when Ivan busted out the oddka did Alfred's clingy side show. Admitting any of this would seem really gay, and the blonde was far from this.

He had flings with fine girls in the past. He was far from a virginal man. Alfred simply never felt the need to settle down. Why did he need to when he had Ivan to room with him? They were going to be the very best of friends, right until they were grey and pruned.

It was now six shitty hours since Alfred woke up. He was tired, cold, and miserable. He was on a large metal scale for the third time, peppered with inane questions. His somewhat short temperament was starting to show it's ragged edges. He hated it here, and he legally didn't have to stay. He knew this, thanks to Ivan's medical ramblings from university.

“I'm out of here.” He announced suddenly.

“We need to keep you for twenty four hours of observation.” One doctor insisted.

“The fuck you do. I know my rights. Get out of my way.” As Alfred marched off the scale, the various medical staff cleared the way. He looked over his shoulder, brazenly growling. “If one of you fellas doesn't give me my stuff back, I'm walking out of here in this paper dress.”

Threat received, Alfred was soon on the main floor. It was a relief to see Ivan again, though the guy was blushing something indecent. Alfred was in such a rush to leave he simply balled up his ruined work clothes and carried them downstairs. “Alfred... You're barely dressed.”

“There's a Denny's around here somewhere. I'll change when I get some food in my system.” This claim was quickly proven false. Not even three steps from the hospital doors, Alfred shook something fierce. The night's breeze was chilly on his inner thighs.

Ivan chuckled, shaking his head. “You are so stubborn.”

“I am not, I'll be _fine_.” Alfred argued while doubling over and shivering. Ivan's lilac sweater was huge, fitting like a sail. Forced into the thing, Alfred had to admit it was warm. Next his partially melted work uniform was wrapped around the waist as some kind of skirt. The socks were missing, so Alfred wore his rubber boots without them.

Ivan did his best to be a living wall, blocking Alfred's body from public view. It was almost midnight, so there wasn't a lot of people to see anything. “Okay. You can look big guy, but you can't laugh.”

The taller roommate turned around, and immediately burst into laughter.

“You are such a dick! I told you not to laugh!”

“You look like a homeless cheerleader!” Ivan tittered, genuinely entertained.

Alfred pouted, then marched off in the known direction of a Denny's restaurant. He recalled eating at it last year after a terrible blind date.

“Oh don't be like that, I'm joking. Really. No more laughs.” Ivan trailed behind, a giggle leaking out one second after his false promise.

“You are the worst kind of best friend. You're a cruel bastard!”

“Correction, I know who both my parents were.”

Such an infuriatingly lovable smart ass at the best of times. Alfred stopped and turned around, glaring. “No laughing at me, or you and your garbage pikachu don't get any waffles.”

“Why you dragging me into this?” The pikachu objected, looking disgustingly cute like all of his kind. During the bickering, the creature mostly sat on Ivan's shoulders. It looked distracted by the unknown location, sniffing the air.

“Yes. I'll stop for waffles, with extra whipped cream.” Ivan countered, forever possessing a sweet tooth.

There it was, glorious shameless Denny's. The haven of stoners, stranded trainers, and insomniacs alike. Upon walking in the bright diner, a waiter scrubbing a table looked up. The bored adult gave the filthy pikachu, barely dressed Alfred, and Ivan a quick scan. With the most non-committal expression, he asked “You folks got money?”

Alfred nodded, showing his thin wallet.

“Okay, please take a seat I'll be right with you.” This waiter was a veteran, it seemed. The golden blonde assumed any long term employee of a twenty four hour restaurant had nerves of steel.

Seated and brought glasses of water, Alfred leaned back in the booth seat. He eyed Ivan critically, for the first time in a long time. This was a man of recent madness, of change, of new secrets. He was clearly under daily stress. He had some part in Alfred waking up from a near death experience. Ivan was related to understanding Pokemon because he was some kind of wizard... probably.

“So.” Alfred began.

“So.” Ivan repeated, sweating a little from obvious nervousness.

Alfred leaned forward, smiling. “You're gonna explain exactly what the hell is going on.”


	10. Chapter 10

Alfred leaned forward, smiling. “You're gonna explain exactly what the hell is going on.”

Ivan was usually great under pressure. He had the dying or the wounded on his hands every single day. He was able to make snap decisions, life saving ones at that. Under the gaze of Alfred Jones, he simply wanted to melt instead. Ivan wanted to curl under his touch and... well, he desired to do _lots_ of things. All the same, Ivan was going to try his best to be resistant. He didn't want to spill the beans in front of his best friend and look insane. “I don't know what you're taking about.” Ivan denied bluntly.

“Taurus shit. You like, changed in a lot of ways. Really obvious ways. I thought for a minute that you were secretly doing drugs, but this... that thing talking and... why do I feel weird now? Did you do this?” Alfred was clearly struggling to approach the topic, not an eloquent man. He didn't need to be.

“Until last week, I always had these bad headaches on full moons. I always needed to be somewhere you know? I never seemed to leave the apartment, but I couldn't remember those nights.” Ivan began shyly.

Alfred muttered something, glancing away. Faint colour dusted his tan cheeks.

“What?” Ivan asked, curious.

“I said, I made sure you didn't go anywhere. Stop you from climbing out a window, I guess.”

Ivan's pining lust for the man only burned more brightly at hearing this. It was encouraging. He might not run away at the rest of the story. “But whatever you did, I don't remember, it worked.”

“What worked?”

“I don't know! All I remember is... waking up feeling okay.” Ivan admitted. “But after that, you know the thing. The thing some trainers get where they can kinda understand what the Pokemon are saying because they feel it in their gut?”

“Duh. It's the sign of a future Pokemon master. All the good trainers have it.” Alfred chatted, sweetening his coffee after it was poured for him.

“Yeah well. I've always had that, but avoided violence. I chose medicine instead. But this feeling, its full on talking now. When I'm at work... You'll laugh.” Ivan paused, staring into the herbal tea he ordered. He waited for judgment but none came. He looked up shyly, violet eyes meeting bright blue.

“Go on.” the other motioned with a hand.

“Well... I feel their sadness at work. Pokemon hate their lives. It makes work impossible. I don't know what I can do about it. I mean...” Ivan gestured to their very environment, a bright sunny diner despite it being midnight.

Alfred perked a brow. “I don't get it.”

“What is there not to get?” the pikachu argued, invested enough in this conversation to participate.

“Hey, I don't take sass from rats!” Alfred retorted.

“I ain't called Rat. My name is Frankie.” the Pokemon corrected sharply, equally as proud as Alfred. “Some people like battling, but I don't. I always wanted to be a pet. Most of us don't even know where we came from. I was born in a lab. A _shitty_ lab. But I supposed you don't get that, huh.” Frank really seemed to get through Alfred's thick skull. Alfred didn't say anything for the longest time. He mostly looked lost.

It was nothing but slow sips of beverages until their waffles arrived. It was breakfast deliciousness topped with berries and whipped cream. In Alfred's case, it was local fruit and sweet sauce with marshmallows.

“I... can't eat this.” The handsome blonde finally muttered.

Ivan held Frank by the scruff of the neck so the creature wouldn't gorge itself on human food. “Why? You must be starving.”

“I'm the worst person ever. Pokemon are like, little people, and I battled with them for years. In turf wars and stuff. Gilbert must hate me. Poor shiny bastard.” Alfred's remorse seemed genuine as he stirred his coffee with a spoon.

“Yeah. Just terrible.” Frank strained to reach Alfred's waffle, hopelessly weak against Ivan's grip.

“You aren't a bad person. I'm a bad person. I just patch them up and send them back.” Ivan lamented.

“So. I get all the food?” The eternally hungry pikachu was such a greedy scavenger. His weight would definitely have to be monitored.

“No.” Both men denied the yellow creature in unison.

“Fine. I'll eat. But I don't know what to do about this. And what did you do to me?” Alfred's sharp change in topic was unexpected, and unwanted. Ivan really didn't want to talk about whatever the hell he did at the hospital.

“Are you going to take a few days off?” Ivan suggested.

“No changing the subject. I was dead-ish then I heard you talking. Now I'm walking around.”

“I didn't do anything!”

“I can see without glasses Ivan. Something happened.” Alfred had a point there.

Ivan squirmed under the attention. “I don't know. I didn't want you to die, and then... you woke up. What is there to worry about?”

“Why though? Are you magic now?”

“I don't know okay? I don't know!” Ivan hissed, stressed. 

Finally, Alfred relented and began eating. Relieved, the other man did the same. Frank was given a few pieces of fruit so he'd shut up. They ate quickly and efficiently, readying themselves for the hour long walk home. After the delicious meal, neither man had enough money left to rub together.

Without thinking, Alfred pulled out the steelix's pokeball and released the five hundred pound idiot from it's prison. All forty feet of the metallic serpentine Pokemon formed in the the middle of the empty street. As Ivan had thought, the steelix was incredibly proud and full of itself. Alfred's first reaction to Gilbert talking was rather cute though

“Ready to work and... This isn't work.” Gilbert paused mid cheer, puzzled. He focused his red eyes on the humans below. “Where am I?” His voice was grating and obnoxious, almost impossible to ignore. How Ivan had managed so far, he didn't know.

“Wow! You can talk Gillie!?” Alfred squealed, an over excited child.

“You can hear me?”

“Yes! I just got magic powers!” 

Ivan groaned as the two idiots bounced increasingly stupid ideas off each other. Still, Alfred was dealing with this really well. Still, that misplaced guilt resurfaced. The blonde hugged a rocky segment of his long time Pokemon. “I'm really sorry I enslaved you buddy.”

The steelix was dealing just fine with this bizarre evening. “It's okay. Most of my family died to other slaves. It was an easy choice to serve humans.”

Ivan had yet to hear this opinion from any creature. “What?”

The steelix laughed, if it could be called a laugh. It was horrible scraping metal sounds Alfred seemed used to. “Us rock worms aren't big word speakers, but we know what's up. Serve or die. Serving Alfred has been great. He made me shiny and stronger. You want to see me earthquake? I can wreck a _whole_ building.” The steelix was so proud of this, oblivious to the fact people lived in buildings.

“Please don't. I believe you.” Ivan appealed, looking around. Thankfully no one was around to hear this weird conversation.

Alfred slapped the side of Gilbert like it was a rapidash or a cab. “We need a ride home buddy. I'm exhausted.”

“Yes boss.” Gilbert replied cheerfully. His heavy tail crashed to the road, making a notable crack that scattered bits of broken cobblestone. “Climb on.”

Alfred scampered up the Pokemon with ease, then looked back. “Coming Ivy? Lots of room up here.”

“Is this safe?” Ivan asked, more scared than he'd admit. Meanwhile, the pikachu was a terrified bundle in Ivan's arms. Most electric Pokemon reacted to Gilbert in this way, typically fleeing upon seeing his lumbering movement.

“I'm the safest.” Gilbert bragged. That shiny jagged mouth of his had eaten live birds and entire wagons with ease. Ivan had witnessed such terrifying acts.

“O-okay then.” The silvery blonde had to be helped on board the new 'ride'. Centred on one of the least moving segments, Alfred kept a strong hold on Ivan. It was the only good part of the trip so far. “If you get scared, you can hold on to me okay?” Alfred offered sympathetically.

Ivan stuck to Alfred for most of the trip, terrified.


	11. Chapter 11

Alfred couldn't understand why Ivan was so upset. Talking to Pokemon was amazing! As a handy man that used creatures at work, it was invaluable. Extremely specific instructions could be given, the same as working with people. Alfred could tell when his Pokemon 'equipment' was getting tired, frustrated, or hungry.

The only thing that sucked about the situation was gossip. Pokemon were rife with gossip, real or invented. They talked trash about anything and everyone to pass the time. Not wanting to look insane in front of his co-workers, Alfred was eating lunch beside a hot dog stand. It was a block over, where almost nobody from work visited.

“I'll have one hot dog with ketchup and mustard, and Gillie here will have...” Alfred browsed the toppings in thought. The vendor nodded and started grilling while waiting.

“I want sausage with relish.” Gilbert interrupted.

“It costs an extra five dollars.”

“I work hard and I deserve it.” the steelix was unbelievably stubborn, true to his steel typing.

“Fine, brat. I'll order 16 sausages with extra relish too.”

This particular hot dog seller didn't so much as question the order. He probably showed up just for the occasion, since Gilbert's 'treat' ranged from 16 to 32 sausages. Alfred liked to spoil his living tractor. However, The man did raise a brow at clear conversation with a Pokemon. It did look crazy from the outside.

“I want onions too.” Gilbert insisted, his massive lumbering form pushing slightly closer. He absolutely dwarfed the hot dog stand. The vendor looked nervous.

“No. It gives you gas.” Alfred denied, occupied with paying the hefty bill.

“I like onions.”

“I like not suffocating from your farts.” With Alfred's word, the decision was final. The steelix grumbled not so sweet nothings, but ultimately dropped the topic.

“Ya alright in the head?” The vendor asked, as he emptied a whole jar of relish over 16 buns.

“Yeah, he's just spoiled.” Alfred assured with a grin.

It was a pyramid of cooked sausages in their neatly dressed buns. It was beautiful in it's own sort of way, served on a metal tray. All a lovely arrangement that was promptly tossed into Gilbert's gaping metallic jaws. The vendor never ceased to looked surprised at how big those grinding teeth were.

“Oh, my bad. Did you need the tray back?” Alfred asked innocently.

“N-no it's okay.” The other man stammered.

“Mmm. Relish.” Gilbert hummed in contentment after swallowing, a low basal sound. With the silly beast content and partially fed, they headed back to work.

“Are we going to the big park after?” Gilbert asked, uncaring about Alfred sitting on one of his moving tail segments.

“Yes. I need the fresh air.” Alfred replied, still eating his own hot dog. Anything at all to not go home, at this rate.

The steelix snickered, but said nothing. It was a pitched metal scrape denoting some kind of inside joke. All the while Gilbert continued slowly slithering back to the job site. Right now it was a demolition of an old apartment complex. A new one would be built in it's place, almost twice the height.

“What?” Alfred demanded.

“ _Nothing_.” Gilbert teased.

“Seriously, what is it?”

“You've been... ah. You humans wouldn't get it. But, you act like you've been attracted.”

At hearing this, Alfred already knew what his Pokemon was talking about. As a young trainer, Alfred had been foolish. One of the earliest beings he caught, a pidgey, had used attract on another trainer's pidgey. The results had been extremely sexually educational, for fifteen really horrible minutes. His thirteen year old mind was scarred forever by the incident.

“No. I'm not.” Alfred denied instantly.

“Hahaha, You got hit by attract!” Gilbert was such an obnoxious ass hole sometimes.

“NO, because no. That's why.”

“Oh I remember my first attract. She was some onix, a real long thing. She was all rough edged and her scent... like copper and sandstone. Prettier than any boulder you ever saw. We must have went –” 

“I am not listening to this.” Alfred objected, feeling ready to cook from humiliation.

“– at it for days. I never used earthquake so many times outside of battle before.” Gilbert's bragging came to an end, but the damage was done. Alfred's reddened cheeks betrayed his own embarrassment. The truth was, he wasn't handing one part of his changed life well.

Smells had not been a notable sense before the accident. Now he could smell everything. The spices of a finely cooked dinner, Gilbert's subtle yet terrible onion farts. Event the faint stink of the apartment from before was now strong. Alfred assumed it was that disgusting pikachu that refused to bathe frequently at first.

It was an extremely familiar musk, overwhelming his senses. It was flowers and fresh lakeside smells, soft memories of picnics in the spring. In all honesty, Alfred had extreme difficulty controlling himself in that environment. He was approaching a full moon again, and Ivan was the sane one now. No one else could smell this mind controlling perfume. This was all in his head, and Alfred didn't _like_ it.

Alfred worked hard instead. He pushed himself faster than usual, never allowing himself a chance to mentally breathe. The second he dared to, the most inconvenient condition would occur again. A condition in his pants. It was almost the end of the day, and Alfred was running out of lesser tasks to do. He picked at the fabric frizz on the end of his uniform sleeve. The pale blue of the tired thread reminded him of... no. He wasn't going to think about home.

Matthew appeared inconveniently, like a good twin brother does. “Hey.”

Alfred waved back in greeting. “Hey.”

“You're avoiding me, so what's the secret.”

Sweating a little, Alfred's mind raced. He had been found out already! “Uh. No. There's no secret.”

“Liar.”

“You're a liar!”

“Tell me the secret!” The twin brothers devolved to play fighting on the ratty old floor, only one wall of safety between them the edge. As their sibling brawl progressed, the steelix provided his body as a boundary to stop them from falling ten floors.

The fight ended as it always did, Matthew pinned to the ground on his belly. It hadn't always been this way. Years ago, Matthew had chased a girl he was dating up north. He followed the Mississippi river for a whole winter. Where Matthew went or what exactly happened was unclear. All Alfred knew was his twin was back, and very different than when he left. Taller, paler, and magically better in arm wrestling.

Only after Alfred hit the gym for several months had he regained the advantage. It was more obvious than ever. Matthew, slightly paler with obvious chub to his frame. Alfred winning this play fight with an arm lock, wiry and fit.

“I give! This hurts!” Matthew whined, flopping on the floor. “... You have to tell me what's bothering you though.”

Alfred released him, sitting on his butt after. “I'll let you know when I figure it out, okay?”

Matthew gave a comforting pat on the shoulder after rolling over. “Okay.” The silent rope of brotherly loyalty between them was as strong as ever. Both siblings wouldn't have it any other way.

In no time at all it was the end of the work day. It was time to go home and Alfred was exhausted. Even Gilbert, who utterly despised being in his pokeball, looked ready for a nap. It was time to visit a Pokemon centre, since the oversized steelix had no proper yard to sleep in. Unfortunately, Alfred knew just the place.

It was time to visit Ivan at work.


	12. Chapter 12

Alfred spotted the Pokemon centre a solid block before he entered it. It was a white glossy place with a red roof. A few nurses were smoking outside, mushing finished filter ends into the pavement with their white flats. One winked at Alfred before going inside.

Flattered, Alfred really wanted talk to her. He didn't though. The last time he brought a girl home, Ivan acted like he'd been shot. The normally reserved man was a mess of almost-tears, empty cookie bags, and romance movies for three long weeks. As nice as it would be to get off sometime this year, Alfred didn't like breaking Ivan's mental health every time.

Thus the horny blonde was sentenced to an accidental sexless life. He might as well be a eunuch at this rate. With a sad sigh, Alfred walked in the front doors. He braced himself to be hit with a hundred scents, all clogging his head until he wanted to run. Instead he walked into... nothing. Only sterile traces of cleaner were sniffed.

In a waiting area with at least six young trainers and five following Pokemon, it seemed impossible. It was nice, _peaceful_ even. Clear headed for the first time in two weeks, Alfred spotted Ivan. The man was busy trying to wrangle the three heads of a dodrio for eye drops. It was obvious Ivan would be busy for at least ten minutes. Alfred sat and contemplated how he was going to approach speaking.

Alfred had been ghosting Ivan for a solid six days now. Unable to function properly within ten feet of the guy, it was the only easy option. The only other thing left to do was talk about his feelings like a _girl_. It was gross and out of character, not a standard option for Alfred.

In the middle of his personal crisis, two audinos with adorable nurse hats approached. “Hello!” one sang in greeting. “How can we help you?” the other chimed in.

“I'm good.” Alfred dismissed them, but they didn't go away like normal.

“Oh no! He looks tired!” “Yes, his aura is sad.” They chatted to each other, ignoring Alfred's words.

“Hugs!” “Yes, hugs!” they cheered, cute arms open wide.

“No! No hugs.” Alfred objected, sitting upright. They hugged his legs anyway. Pleasant warmth seemed to fill his chest, his very soul. A dim memory of sneaking out of private school with Ivan bubbled to the surface. They went swimming at the local pool together, young and childish. It had been one of the good times. It was the innocent times.

With a sharp breath, Alfred realized he was still in the waiting room. He also felt wide awake, and completely refreshed. “All better!” one audino cheered, already prancing off to the next person of interest. The other one tottered back with the ultra ball Alfred didn't recall handing off. “Happy steelix!” it informed sweetly, before trilling a song and skipping after it's counterpart. Holding Gilbert's pokeball, Alfred was in lesser shock.

No. No, this was not normal. Alfred damn well knew the little Pokemon nurses used Heal Pulse. It was their only move that could directly heal others. It's benefits were well researched and recorded. The move restored health after grievous battle wounds, and gave great energy. There was a catch to this life saving technique. It only worked on other Pokemon. Modern science had never figured out how to harness this power for the betterment of mankind. No. Alfred was hallucinating, or sick!

Heart beating with sharp anxiety, Alfred tucked Gilbert's ball into the belt holster. He tore out of the centre with new concerns. Talking to Ivan would have to wait a few hours. Something else much more unnatural was of needed investigation. Alfred ran almost all the way home, racing into the lobby elevator. He pressed the button for the twelfth floor six times in rapid fire succession.

The older business man already here perked a brow. Alfred bristled at this, retorting “It's an emergency.” The other one said nothing, shaking his head and looking away. For Arceus sake, why was this elevator so damn slow? It felt like an eternity, a hellish box ride with smudged mirror finish.

Finally getting to the right floor, Alfred was off again. He sprinted down the tacky white and green hall, keys jingling on his uniform belt. After fumbling the keys once, he managed to get the front door open. The door was slammed shut and locked after, keys randomly dropped on the floor. Alfred gasped for breath as he headed to the bedroom. Within lay a cursed space. Under Alfred's bed was a dusty moomoo milk crate. It was full of unused pokeballs, and passport papers. A booklet studded with gym badges from three city states was under long expired healing potions. Two gleaming hero of the people medals lay crumpled at the bottom of the crate. A flood of terrible memories came forth as Alfred pulled the crate into the light.

This pile of belongings deserved to stay in the dark, in the past. The war, the dozens of trainers Alfred likely murdered in battle, flashed by his mind's eye. He had been so young back then. So much pain, so much _stupidity_. Still Alfred needed to know the truth.

With a shaky hand, he pulled the pokedex out. It's red casing was scratched, held together in places with epoxy resin. Somehow, the ancient thing turned on. The batteries for these contraptions could last a decade under perfect conditions.

The pokedex opened, a keypad on one side while a screen was beside it. The dim screen simply showed “Update required. Please contact nearest Pokemon centre for service.” This was not a surprise. The thing had been under his bed for years, still somehow functional.

This was it, Alfred had to know the truth. He turned the device around,the external scanning sensors now facing his body awkwardly. Blindly feeling the key pad, he mashed buttons until the flash went off. Next, he pricked his finger on the pop out needle. Now he had to wait for blood analysis. Known species only took seconds for the hand held computer to catalogue. New species took several minutes, or didn't process at all.

Alfred paced in the room impatiently. “Processing.” the screen displayed in blunt letters. Five more minutes passed, still the machine was processing. The suspense was horrible, like a disease under Alfred's skin. He took to staring at it while sitting on his bed. Finally it beeped in completion. The screen before him began filling out data riddled with error codes.

SPECIES: ???  
LENGTH: ???  
WEIGHT: ???  
LEVEL: 32

TYPE: ELECTRIC/FIGHTING  
ABILITY: LIGHTNING ROD  
NATURE: NAUGHTY

THUNDER PUNCH: 15/15  
FORCE PALM: 8/10  
TAUNT: 10/20  
ELECTRIC TERRAIN: 0/12

Alfred gaped like a fish at the results, dropping the pokedex on the bed. No, no, _no_. The machine was broken. The machine was broken. Alfred was not a Pokemon. **No, the machine was broken.**

The silence of the bedroom offered no comfort today.


	13. Chapter 13

Ivan had been at it for two hours. He saw Alfred run out of the Pokemon centre in clear distress. It was the only thing on the nurse's mind until he went home that evening . There, he discovered Alfred blockaded in the bedroom. Two long hours later, the roommate still wasn't making a lot of sense. It was mostly a slur of cursing and obvious crying.

Leaning against the door, Ivan sighed. “Alfred... If you let me in, we don't have to talk. I just want to make sure you're safe.”

There was a sniffle. The lock finally clicked open. Frankie and the sunflora knew to stay the hell away, never having encountered Alfred so upset. Ivan had only seen him this unbound once before. It was when Alfred was first sent away to private school at the tender age of 13, entirely against his will. That was the very same year the boys met, locked together forever by fate. Everything always seemed to push them back together. Oblivious parents, school dorm arrangements, financial troubles, career choices...

A tear streaked face peeked through a crack of open door. “You can come in I guess.”

Ivan slowly entered the room them closed it with a click. The real damage was now obvious. Alfred had been sleeping badly for a month, ever since that electrical panel accident. Dark bags hung under his dreamy blue eyes, despite those audinos at work perking him up with cute hugs. “Alfred, come here.” Ivan cooed, pulling the mess of a human being into his arms.

Alfred didn't resist, dabbing his eyes dry on Ivan's nurse uniform. “I'm so tired, and I'm losing my mind.” he whispered brokenly.

Ivan said nothing, petting the man's back. His muscular lean back. Oh that felt good. All the while, Alfred dissolved in his arms. He was dragged onto Ivan's lap easily. It was a pleasant discovery to feel Alfred rock hard, poking Ivan slightly through the dirty uniform.

“I'm losing control, and I don't know why. I can't think or sleep anymore.” Alfred sobbed. All the while he clutched his banged up pokedex from the war days. Ivan gestured to grab it, handed it after a moment. “It's broken. It's broken Ivy.” Alfred muttered, sounding slightly unhinged.

Ivan opened up the device. It was giving a low battery warning and needed an update. This was not a surprise. It also had a strange Pokemon scan on display. It seemed this scan had been redone six times. Ivan read it with interest.

SPECIES: ???  
LENGTH: ???  
WEIGHT: ???  
LEVEL: 32

TYPE: ELECTRIC/FIGHTING  
ABILITY: LIGHTNING ROD  
NATURE: NAUGHTY

THUNDER PUNCH: 13/15  
FORCE PALM: 8/10  
TAUNT: 9/20  
ELECTRIC TERRAIN: 1/12

SPOTTED: 6 TIMES  
HABITAT: URBAN  
HOSTILE: YES

Electric and fighting was something Ivan had never ever encountered before in one species. That was quite a statement, considering challengers came from around the world to fight the steel gym. “What did you scan, Alfred?” Ivan asked, incredibly curious. Was this a new species native to New York? Maybe they could name it and become rich off the rights.

“Me.” Alfred stammered, shaking with restrained urge in Ivan's cuddling grasp.

“You. You did what?” Ivan was mostly confused at this point.

“I scanned me. I'm... It's... It's broken. It has to be.” Alfred was babbling and clingy. What _happened_ to him today? Not even mental trauma from the war scrambled his brain this badly.

“It's not broken yet, we just need to – Ouch!” Ivan pricked his finger on the blood analyzer of the older model. Yes, he recalled why the things were recalled now. Hundred of trainers kept stabbing themselves by accident on the underside. Dropping it caused the flash to go off, getting Ivan right in the eyes. “I hate that thing!”

Alfred snatched the scratched pokedex off the floor, staring at the screen obsessively. He then showed it to Ivan. A block letter message of “Processing” was present.

“What is it even processing? I'm a person, I can't even register on it.” Ivan scoffed. A minute later it pinged, announcing completion of the apparent processing. Holding their breath, both men huddled around the dim screen as it filled with text. The standard “Update required. Please contact nearest Pokemon centre for service.” was dismissed with a push of a button.

SPECIES: CLEFABLE_ERROR_045  
LENGTH: ???  
WEIGHT: ???  
LEVEL: ???

TYPE: FAIRY  
ABILITY: REGENERATOR  
NATURE: SASSY

HEAL PULSE: 9/10  
PLAY ROUGH: 10/10  
SLAM: 19/20  
ATTRACT: 13/15

SPOTTED: ERROR_261  
HABITAT: ERROR_099  
HOSTILE: NO

CLEFABLE_ERROR_045. Data of CLEFABLE invalid. Update required. Please contact nearest Pokemon centre for service.

Ivan read it, paused, then read it all again. “This doesn't make any sense. It's broken.”

“It... It is broken then. I'm not a Pokemon?” Alfred asked, beginning to calm down.

“Yes. I'll try a new model at work just to prove you wrong.” This finally soothed a troubled Alfred, but his other condition was still awake and present. Alfred's eyes were blown wide as he stuck to Ivan's body.

Alfred murmured absolute nonsense, no longer himself once more. “... couldn't sleep, the dreams were everywhere. You were there, I saw it. The perfume it clings to my clothes, to you. From you. Sunrises together, you remember that right?”

“Yes?” Ivan answered cryptically. The second he paused to talk more, he was attacked in the best possible way. Alfred kissed him. It was an earth shattering, world changing thing. Ivan was easily washed away by the moment, touching Alfred. Ivan him tightly, slowly worming curious fingers around that taut perfect ass.

The kiss was maybe sloppy, and a little rough. Ivan didn't care. It was his first. His very first kiss. The larger man hadn't completely held out in his degrees of virginity. There was quite a few one night stands peppering Ivan's murky past. This kiss was reserved though. He had let no other spoil the right, the dream, of Alfred Fredrick Jones giving him his first kiss.

They were both panting and hard after a time. Heart thumping, Ivan looked at the very dazed Alfred with pure adoration. Nuzzling that soft blonde hair, he whispered “Please. Don't let this be a dream.” He poured all his dreams, his suppressed lust into the words. It was like a tether of joy, obsession, or even mutual love. Hopefully mutual love, but this was unlikely.

This hot feverish touch of sexual need ran through Alfred like lightning. He almost fell over from Ivan's touch, coasting on a high tide of hormones. He righted himself, looking sexually predatory. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk.” he growled, pinning Ivan to the floor belly first. Ivan's breath hitched from the force of all this. He was humming with excitement. Sexual fantasy number twelve was coming true.

Pressing his rear against Alfred's trapped cock, Ivan was already trying to loosen his annoying belt. It was getting in the way of his fantasy sex. Spreading wide and being taken savagely, repeatedly, by his best friend. It was all Ivan ever wanted.

“Please... please take me.”


	14. Chapter 14

Alfred woke, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. His headache was gone too. The bed was warm and soft. Put simply, Alfred felt snug and safe against a large heat source. With a small yawn, he cracked open his eyes.

His bed was pushed up against the wall, crookedly lined up with Ivan's. The separator curtain was on the floor, rumpled and stained suspiciously. Scattered work uniforms of both men were nearby. A soft sigh came from behind, an arm wrapping around his waist. Alfred froze up, not expecting the touch so close to his ticklish stomach. He already knew it was Ivan, having known the guy for years. He had a sort of whistling quiet snore that wasn't unpleasant.

Looking back a second, a fluff of almost white hair poked out from under the two blankets. The guy was still out like a light, but the dead weight of his leg and arm were trapping. Alfred shifted to escape, when he realized something. They were both super duper naked.

Blushing hotly, Alfred managed to inch his way to freedom. Slipping free, he left a discarded pillow in his place. It was thoroughly molested in Ivan's sleep immediately. Alfred's brain raced, trying to piece together what happened last night. He had been upset over his pokedex glitching out. Ivan showed up to cuddle, then...

It was all a passionate blur until this morning. Why or how Alfred was in the nude he didn't dare speculate. You didn't start sharing a bed with your friend without warning. Attraction and relationships didn't naturally proceed like that. Something happened, but what?

Alfred felt less than fresh, so decided to wash up. He was quick to clean, until he paused in the shower. His ass was really sore for no damn reason. He felt around in the region cautiously. As he slipped a finger inside, he found it... more pliable than usual? The single digit confirmed his suspicions. Pearly drying cum was present.

What the hell happened? Alfred wasn't gay, _he wasn't_!

“Ivan you son of a bitch! What did you do!?” he roared, turning off the shower and stomping over. The pikachu didn't comment or much care, grooming himself in a corner. The sunflora was sunning itself on a window ledge, oblivious.

“Wha...” Ivan grumbled, not awake in the slightest. He pulled the cover over his eyes to hide from morning light.

“Answer me!” Alfred demanded, ripping off the blankets. Ivan was naked and a filthy mess beneath, groaning and rolling over. His notable cock, currently limp, was out for all to see. It was huge. Alfred turned around, blushing shamefully and wondering the laws of physics. Could human asses fit that much cock? Apparently, since his ass stung something fierce.

“Get... covered, or something. I need to talk to you.” he sputtered.

“You took the blanket, and you're naked too.” Ivan teased.

Alfred looked down at his clenched fists. They did indeed grip the blankets. He handed them back bashfully, shying his gaze away. Using a tossed pillow to cover up his own indecency, Alfred struggled to regain his angry authority of before. “Listen you! You did something weird to my head and then... we had sex.”

Ivan looked at him with a squint, barely awake and unimpressed. “What are you talking about?”

“You mind controlled me!”

Ivan scoffed. “You pinned me to the floor and had your way with me. I was as surprised as you are.”

“I... You... You should have known better. You know I'm straight.”

“I don't know about that.” Ivan teased, yawning and hiding under the covers again.

“Take me seriously! Something happened!” Alfred repeated.

“Stop screeching!” The irritated roommate now resembled a lump, hiding under covers fully.

“I'll stop freaking out when you explain what you did to me!”

“I didn't _do_ anything! I touched you and you ripped my clothes off!” Ivan argued, getting upset himself.

“What did you do exactly!?”

“Fine! I just did... this, then you lost your mind.” Ivan's hand touched Alfred's thigh. It was a hot sweet tingle that drowned his common sense. It was hazy dream land of love and laughter, of pure carnal joy. Alfred drifted a while, only to come back to earth with a shattering orgasm. “Fuck!” he cried out, gasping and sweating as stars scattered in his vision. He then gave a strangled shriek at his surroundings.

He was balls deep in Ivan, flush with held hips. Ivan meanwhile was slack and panting. “That was... amazing Alfred.”

Blushing hotly, the man pulled out in panic. The chilly air was unpleasant on his softening dick. “You did it again! You're a mind gypsy!”

“I'm too tired to argue with your crazy. Lay with me sunflower.” Ivan dismissed, an absolute mess of his own seed and sweat.

“No! Don't touch me!” Alfred fled the room, legs a little wobbly.

“Don't be so upset!” Ivan called out, not moving.

“I'M LOSING MY MIND AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!”

“Alfred calm down. I didn't _do_ anything.” Ivan teased, shuffling after him in a blanket toga.

“Don't touch me!” Alfred hissed, retreating to the bathroom. He slammed the door and locked it, sinking to a naked crouch on the floor. Confusion brewed in his head, chased by fear. “I can't trust you! You did something to my head!”

“Alfred, How could I do anything to your head?” Ivan asked through the door.

“Don't patronize me!” Alfred started the shower, determined to wash off whatever strange pixie magic had affected him. 

“I didn't –” Ivan's taurus shit response was drowned out by water. That man, his very best friend for fifteen years, did something crazy to him. Alfred had no idea what that something was, but it was powerful and dangerous. Washing up, Alfred walked to the bedroom to change.

There Ivan was, still in his blanket toga on the couch. He absently petted his sleepy sunflora. The plant was basically drunk from how dull it's mind was. “Alfred, You don't have to go.” the frosty pale blonde appealed softly. There was no doubt his eyes were big and sad. There was no doubt it was a trick.

“I'm going to my brother's place to get my head clear.” Alfred answered out of pure spite. He wasn't even certain if Matthew was home today, but he didn't care. He needed to get out of this nut house. Pulling on boxers and a track suit, Alfred stuffed a few work uniforms in a bag. It was nearly winter, so he took a random sweater and thermal socks too.

He met no resistance as he left the room to find his work boots. It was just Ivan looking pitifully crushed. Alfred stepped toward him a moment, out of habit and concern. He stopped, clenching his fists. No! No more manipulation until Ivan explained what he did and why. Alfred was straight as an arrow. It made no sense that he suddenly fucked his best buddy twice. It had to be drugs or something.

Determined to go through with this, Alfred left the apartment. He resolve was already crumbling from that deeply sad gaze locked on him. He couldn't fail now. Matthew was the smart twin, the lucky twin. He would know what to do.

At least, more so than a hormone rattled Alfred.


	15. Chapter 15

It was too early in the morning. Still, there was banging on the door. Matthew groaned, recognizing the rhythm, the urgency. His twin brother's patented knock in times of emergency. It was rare to hear it these days. Rolling out of bed in wrinkled pyjamas, he slipped on buneary slippers and headed to the front door down stairs. The pounding on the door switched to repeated abuse of the door bell.

“I'm coming! Knock it off!” Matt yelled out, greeting a small zoo of critters at the bottom of the stairs. His friend Lars had said he would dump off “a few” baby buneary to be watched until evening. Apparently a few meant an entire basket of the things. The small herd of bunny babies was awful cute though. They shadowed his every step with big brown eyes.

Matthew opened the door a crack, peeking out. A few little ones looked out as well. “What.”

It was Alfred, face reddened from tears. He looked dishevelled, track pants pulled on the wrong way. “Mattie... Mattie I need help.”

“Come in, come in. Don't step on any critters.” Matthew waved him in, pushing baby buneary out of the way.

“Woah, why is your house filled with pokemon?”

“Lars dumped them off. They're too young to go truffle hunting outside the city walls.” Matthew replied, arms now full of squirming curious bunnies. Alfred entered and shut the door behind him, stopping a few little ones from escaping with his foot. Setting the creatures down, Matthew gave his twin brother a hug. “What happened?”

“It's Ivan's damn fault. Fucking with my head.” Alfred cursed, nearly ready to cry. It was rare Alfred was this upset. It was even rarer that he spoke badly about his roommate. Normally Alfred was proudly defensive about his long time friend. He once knocked a guy out in a bar fight for simply insulting Ivan.

“How is it Ivan's fault?” the brother asked, not understanding anything.

“He pricked the pokedex, then he was like 'my work has another one' and he was being Mr. Smooth! Then he mind controlled me! And I hate him! He's an evil mind gypsy!” Alfred blubbered, already upset.

“... Okay.” Matthew responded slowly, more lost than before.

“I don't want to go home! I don't want to see him!”

“Okay... Sit on the couch.”

“Why!?” Alfred had always been irrational and stubborn about accepting help, even when he looked for it.

“It's a cupcake surprise.” This finally made the petulant twin brother sit. Matthew dumped an arm load of buneary babies all over his lap. This made Alfred positively melt from the cute factor.

“You're all so precious. Look at you!” Alfred squeaked, fully distracted. The little critters squeaked back, not ready for words yet. Buneary in general were not the brightest. Meanwhile, Matthew went to the kitchen and looked on the counter. It was his last baked treasure.

Bourbon cupcakes, some of the most delicious confections in New York city. There was only one left, and it was to be sacrificed to Alfred. Mournfully, he brought it to the living room. This great terrible loss was for his dear brother.

“Is that those cupcakes that you wait in line for an hour to get?” Alfred perked up upon seeing the treat. Matthew knew his inner workings, what it took to make the man work. Alfred needed special attention, sometimes love, to turn around. Matthew was very much the same.

Covered in baby buneary, Alfred's rapid fire chatter was stifled. It picked up the second he stop eating. “This is so good, I'm so sorry I just crashed on you. I didn't know what to do after Ivan did that mind trick, so I ran away. I don't know what to do and... and...”

“Shush... Breathe Alfie. What happened?” Matthew appealed, still not knowing what was going on.

“Ivan ruined my day!” At this, Alfred's hand gestures were wild once more. The buneary all scattered, meeping and squeaking in concern. Knowing they would all lump together in their basket a room over, Matthew was not ruffled.

“Okay, so...” Matthew rubbed his temples, exasperated. “How does your day normally go?”

Alfred licked a drop of frosting that escaped cupcake hell, then sighed. “Well. I guess I wake up. It depends who wakes up first because... You know, bathroom rights. Or like, if Ivan has a nightmare, we might push the beds together. Anyway, I wake up usually by myself.”

Matthew said nothing, but had already cast his judgment. He has formed his opinion on the couple years ago, and it was one Alfred wouldn't want to hear. Forever more Alfred spoke.

“... Then Ivan makes breakfast, I wash dishes. We watch bad TV together and eat. We hug goodbye and go to work. Sometimes I meet him at lunch. We share this lunch, it's the cutest little sandwiches you ever saw. Sometimes he makes them, and it's just... special, and we insult people together and... Sometimes we go for picnics, or you know... whatever. Nice restaurants when we have money. Normal friend stuff.” Alfred blushed faintly despite his words.

'Normal friend stuff' indeed. Matthew clucked his tongue and ran a hand through his hair. He had been dreading this talk for years, but no one else was willing to deliver it. “So... How did Ivan ruin the day?” Judging from a few hickey's on Alfred's neck, the answer was clear.

“Yesterday, I was upset because my pokedex was broken. But... I know it's not really broken. Ivan said he'd check with a pokedex from work then... well, um. I kissed him.” Alfred was blushing red by the end, trailing off.

“Uh huh.”

“But I didn't mean to! I'm straight!” Alfred stumbled socially over himself, desperate.

It was a struggle not to look smug for Matthew. He had seen this coming twelve years ago. “Really?”

“Yes! He tricked me into kissing him, and... all the other stuff.”

“Oh definitely. Can I ask you something?” Matthew swung for a new tactic, uncaring at the news of Alfred probably getting laid. The twin brother nodded in response, relieved at the topic change.

“You're straight. So, have you dated any girls?”

Alfred looked ready to answer, then paused and thought a long time. “I don't think I've dated any... ever. I've been around, but only when I'm... you know. In need.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Girls are annoying, and loud. I have Ivan to hang out with. He's like, the best. The best friend you could ask for. He's pumpkin pie as a person. One time he...” As Alfred went on for a solid three minutes about how great his 'roommate' was, Matthew blanked out. He had heard all of this before, for years. He was honestly tired of it.

Interrupting a passionate monologue about the colour of Ivan's eyes, Matthew spoke. “So. If you didn't seek out girls for being 'in need', would you bother with them at all?”

“Duh... I would, well um. I'd probably ask Ivan first, because... it's stupid. You wouldn't get it.” Alfred mumbled, looking away.

“I can try to get it.” Matthew replied, not actually caring.

“Well... Ivan gets really upset if I do that sort of stuff. So we kinda don't... see other people very much. At all. Not that we're seeing each other, because I'm straight, and he's gay. But we're just friends and that's... fine.” Just listening to his brother's wheezing painful excuse was awful. Matthew patted Alfred on the back, knowing the man liked physical affection.

“Well, you know know what I think?”

Dabbing his eyes dry, Alfred looked to him hopefully. “What?”

 _Get married already so I don't have to listen to this shit._ This was a private thought, of course. As a former herb salesman and current store manager, Matthew was steeped in diplomatic sweetness. “I think whatever happened yesterday won't hurt your friendship with Ivan.”

“It... it won't?”

“No. I think if it happened again, it would only strengthen what you have together.” Only Arceus knew how much that deprived sibling of his needed to get laid.

“Y-y-you really think so? Even though, it was an accident, and I wasn't really myself?” Alfred pressed into the back pats, shuffling close to lean on his twin. It was a habit they both did under duress, having always had each other.

“I know so. He's not mad at you.”

“Even though I'm an jerk, an idiot. I just freaked out and ran.”

“No. He still wants to be your friend.”

At this, Alfred finally relaxed tense back muscles. “I hope so.”

Matthew stood, dumping his brother on the couch. “I'll put tea on.” Entering the kitchen, he headed straight for the wall mounted rotary phone. Dialing the memorized number, the call to Alfred's house was put through.

A weepy voice answered, deep but terrified. “Matthew? Have you seen Alfred? He just ran off and I don't know if he's okay!”

“Yeah. He's here.”

“Is he okay? Is he hurt? He didn't even pack a jacket and it's so cold out –”

“You can come get him anytime.” Matthew replied evenly, before Ivan wound himself into an anxiety attack. “He says he's sorry, and he loves you too.” Matthew lied but knew it was wrong. The tired brother wanted to go back to bed sometime today.

“Oh, He said that?” the voice on the other end swooned, audibly affected.

“Yep. He wants you back and everything.”

There was clattering, then cursing and Ivan's laughter echoing. “I'll... I'll be right there. I'm getting ready!” The line went dead after.

Putting a kettle on the stove, Matthew returned. A stray buneary hopping about was scooped up with a smooth motion. “Look, a cute Pokemon!”

Petting the pale yellow fluffs of fur framing that brown bunny face, both boys were very distracted until there was knocking on the door. It was urgent once more. Ah, Ivan was here. Matthew stood in a hurry to get it.

Just as expected, there Ivan was. The man was over six feet of intimidation, only slightly softened by his love struck expression. How Alfred even fell for the guy, Matthew had no idea. “Come in, do you want tea?”

“No.” Ivan answered coldly. “Where is Alfred?”

Matthew pointed the way, stepping aside. Taking the kettle off an element, he made tea to watch the show with. Front door closed and locked, the cool headed twin brother was already missing the previews.

Ivan had Alfred picked up in a crushing bear hug. It seemed Alfred was just fine with this, clinging on tightly. “I'm sorry if I upset you. Please forgive me Alfred.” the hulking man mumbled.

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to freak out. I didn't know kissing was normal... and all the other stuff, I didn't know. I didn't mean to be such a dick –”

“It's my fault, I didn't give you a chance to think about things, I just... went with the mood and –”

Their confessions were so similar they bled into each other. The couple sunk to the couch, Alfred still acting as an oversized lap warmer. “... and I love you too Alfred.”

Oh thank Arceus. One of the two dolts finally said it. Twelve long years of observing Ivan's silent pining was put to rest. Alfred mostly didn't make sense by this point, stunned and silenced. Matthew couldn't see much from the kitchen archway. He listened closely instead between sips of tea.

“You... love me.” Alfred finally spoke up.

“Just like you love me... right?” Ivan asked, uncertain once more.

“I... I do love you. I love Ivan Braginsky. I... love my best friend in the whole world.” The tears, the emotional confession, the cuddles... This was better than cable television! Matthew watched, amused and pleased with things. That was, until they started make out voraciously. Ivan was after Alfred like it was Taco Tuesday at the nearby buffet restaurant.

“No! No sex on my new couch!” Matthew ordered, only to be stared down by Ivan. Those violet eyes looked wild, like the gaze of a serial killer. Matthew froze under such dangerous sight.

“We need to use your bed.” Ivan replied evenly, stuttering only a moment as Alfred left a fresh hickey on his neck.

“Ivy, I'm gonna do so much stuff to you.” Alfred teased. Ivan tossed Alfred over one shoulder, going up stairs anyway. Not wanting his spine snapped in half, Matthew didn't oppose.

He looked at a little bunny in defeat as it sniffed the floor. “I guess it's time to go to the park, huh.”


	16. Chapter 16

Alfred cuddled Ivan's arm. It had started out as innocent hand holding, but naturally progressed. That was fine. Alfred was horny anyway, and Ivan was his to molest. He couldn't recall why he was dragged to Matthew's nice ground level condo, and it didn't matter. The fact that the window was open in the early winter was just fine. Being anywhere with Ivan was wonderful.

Ivan meanwhile, looked less than pleased. He actually seemed worried. “What's the matter dearest?” Alfred cooed, kissing that burly shoulder.

“Nothing yet. But I suspect something is coming. Matthew is normally not so happy to invite me to his home.”

“He's just recognizing our love.” Alfred assured, more than a little dazed. He felt partially drunk all the time, and there seemed to be no cure. Only being near Ivan, sweet perfect Ivan, seemed to alleviate this. Ivan only frowned and rested his head on a open palm, depressed.

Matthew returned with a tray of cookies. Alfred took one and chewed a bite thoughtfully. Food would fix the centre of his universe. Ivan waved away the bitten cookie. “I'm not hungry.”

At this, Alfred gave distressed whine. If Ivan didn't eat, he could die. Ivan dying would kill Alfred's soul, his heart. Alfred couldn't even imagine breathing without Ivan around.

“Stop that. I'm not going to die.” Ivan assured, pulling him into a side hug. Alfred stuck to his touch like glue, making small happy sounds. This was the only place he was meant to be.

Matthew looked concerned as he petted his useless delibird, opposite the couple in an arm chair. “When Lars gets here, we can start.”

“Start what?” Alfred asked innocently, currently squirming onto Ivan's large lap. It was _his_ lap now, forever until the sun exploded.

“Just a discussion.”

Six minutes later, there was rapid knocking. Matthew got up to answer it, still in his clothes from work. The guest of honour wasn't exactly presentation worthy either. Lars, a friend of Matthew's, was absolutely filthy with mud over his long coat and boots. His prized diggersby and lopunny hopped behind him. Despite being “shiny” or rare colour mutations from the norm, their fur was absolutely matted. How anyone could live like that, Alfred had no idea. He kept his steelix positively sparkling, which was quite the task.

Upon seeing Alfred on Ivan's lap, Lars looked surprised. How dare he! This was Alfred's place, and there was no way he was giving it up over silly social graces. The clingy blond only hugged his depressed lover closer in pure possession.

“So, I see what you mean.” Lars observed coolly.

“Yeah. Do you think it's...”

“Maybe. We'll have to check.” Matthew's sentence was finished by Lars once again. That seemed to happen a lot, since the guy was over almost every single day. It probably meant nothing.

“Hey Alfred. How you feeling?” Lars asked gruffly, about as friendly as a rock.

“I'm okay.”

“Do anything interesting today?”

Well, if the man had to know of Ivan's majesty, his grace. Lars was going to know now! “I spent time with the most perfectly kissable man in the entire universe. Look at him. Look at this sexy thing. He's mine too. My most lovable perfect Ivan. His hair is just the softest.”

“... Right.” Matthew muttered. He cheered up right after, as sweet as maple syrup. “After I visited you in the hospital, did anything change at home? You had a hell of a shock at work.”

“I had headaches, and there was a smell, like everywhere. I was confused. Then I saw the truth, the light if you want. It's Ivan. I love Ivan. He's just the most wonderful person in the whole _everything_ ever.” Alfred swooned and curled around Ivan's delicious body.

Rosy cheeked and bashful, Ivan finally broke his moody silence. “I'm just a person Alfred.”

“The best person ever.”

Further praise was impatiently interrupted by Matthew. “So did you feel like this before?”

“Well, no. Yes... I don't know. All I know is he's the man for me. Even his great big co –”

“Alfred!” Ivan yelped out loud, going scarlet with embarrassment.

“... confidence in everything he does, I was going to say. But now that your gutter brain mentioned it, He's just huge. Like, at least –”

“ _Please_ change topic.” the desperate appeal was partially ignored, while Alfred smiled innocently. He then giggled and lewdly gestured the size of a certain organ on Ivan's body. “Huge.” he whispered loudly. Ivan shook his head, looking ready to shrivel and die on the spot.

“This all started a week after that moonstone thing Alfred talked about?” Matthew went on calmly.

“Yep. We showed up on a pokedex after that, but It was obviously broken. Right Ivy?” Alfred explained happily. Ivan only wore a pensive frown in response.

“I... don't know. It's impossible.” Ivan finally confessed, looking up at Lars and Matthew.

“Can I scan you?” Lars asked carefully, holding up his orange coloured pokedex.

Ivan swallowed and nodded, seemingly mute. Lar's pokedex was slimmer and more modern, but still did all the same functions as models of older years. The only real improvement was the processing time and lack of blood. A simple thumb print was more than sufficient for genetic analysis. Alfred grabbed for the device the second it beeped in completion. It was handed to him with care, much prettier than Alfred's basic military one.

SPECIES: ???  
LEVEL: 34

TYPE: FAIRY  
ABILITY: REGENERATOR  
NATURE: SASSY

HEAL PULSE: 10/10  
PLAY ROUGH: 4/10  
SLAM: 18/20  
ATTRACT: 7/15

SPOTTED: 1 TIME  
HABITAT: MOUNTAIN  
HOSTILE: NO  
EVOLUTION STAGE: 3

NOTES: Currently in heat. Watch out for unpredictable or aggressive behaviour.

Alfred burst into laughter at the entry. “Look, this one is broken too Ivy! What are the chances all the equipment in the Pokemon centre and this are wonky? Weird, am I right?”

“Yeah... Weird.” Ivan mumbled, blushing and holding Alfred tightly.

“Ivan, I know you're freaking out about this. Hearing Pokemon talk is strange, I know.” Matthew gestured to himself. Meanwhile Lars decided to drag a dining room chair over and sit on it, silent. “The same thing happened to me in Montreal. I thought I was going crazy, but I wasn't. But this... whatever you're doing, it has to stop. He's been drunk off hormones for two weeks.”

Alfred fully expected Ivan to laugh or smile. This was all obviously a fucked up joke. Instead Ivan looked ready to cry, eyes shining with moisture. He never ever cried in front of anyone but Alfred, so this was a bizarre event.

“I didn't know how to stop whatever I'm doing at first. I do now, but if I stop, he's going to hate me. He'll have every right.” Ivan admitted shakily, looking to Alfred. “I'm sorry I brainwashed you Alfred.”

“You can't wash a brain silly, it's stuck inside a skull.” Alfred teased, kissing him on the brow.

“You know, whatever this is, It's not real. You have to stop it.” Lars insisted.

“I... I know.” Ivan sighed, dabbing his eyes dry with Alfred's shirt. It was an honour to absorb the tears of someone so incredibly handsome.

A small squirt bottle was in Matthew's hands. “This is extra strength Attract repellent. You know what to do.”

Ivan nodded and took the bottle. He held like it was a bomb, a device of destruction. Alfred didn't really understand why the beautiful man would need Attract repellent. Cuddled so close he could be Ivan's shirt, the blonde kissed the centre of his universe. “Ivy, what are you going with that stuff?”

“Alfred, I need to you to stand over there.” Ivan spoke softly, voice heavy with grief.

“Okay.” Alfred chirped, doing as he was told. It was only arms reach away from his love, but already to far away. “I love you Ivy.”

“I love you too.” Ivan near whispered. His finger trembled on the trigger of the spray bottle. After a last look of sombre longing, he sprayed the clear solution in Alfred's face.

Alfred reeled as the unholy liquid stung his mouth and nose. It was putrid and cold, tingling and numbing. “What the fuck!” Alfred screeched in fear. “Ivy, help me!”

Ivan caught Alfred's form as he sunk to the ground. “I'm sorry.” he cried quietly. He pinned Alfred on his back with one arm easily.

“Don't be sorry! Help me get this shit off my face!” Why was Ivan being so cruel? It made Alfred's heart pang with hurt for the first time. “I love you, so why are you being a dick?”

Ivan dumped the entire bottle over Alfred's face and upper torso, expression twisted by sorrow. A deluge of nasty liquid wiped Alfred's senses. The betrayal of this moment cut like a dagger. With a final wrenching scream, he dropped into unconsciousness.


	17. Chapter 17

For three days, Alfred felt hit by one hell of a hangover. It was so severe he puked several times. Beyond this domestic discomfort, there was a new concern. Alfred was having brief moments of memory loss. He couldn't recall exactly where he had been for the last two weeks. Certainly, not with any accuracy. This was terrifying on an instinctual level.

Of course, Ivan was being completely useless. Any time Alfred would seek assistance, Ivan fled the room or changed the subject. On the third day of his unnaturally long hangover, Alfred had enough. He needed a social change of scene. It was time to go to work.

It was day five, thinking clear without headaches, in the late evening. Ivan had once again abandoned him for some unknown location outside the apartment. The place was empty and lonely without the giant goof. At least he was going to work again in the morning. Gilbert had basically been given free rein for days at a time in the industrial park. It wasn't fair to keep the metallic creature locked up in his ball. The optimistic steelix would be happy to return to his purpose as well.

Still, Alfred was lonely for human companionship _now_. The gross little pikachu and the retarded sunflora were the only things to interact with. Desperate, he approached the creatures.

“Um, Frank?”

“Yeah?” the yellow pest replied in muffled sound, currently chewing a chair leg. He was about as trained as a feral ratatta, still prone to eating trash and wandering around.

“Do you know where Ivan went?”

“Not a clue. He was supposed to take me to the park.”

Alfred sighed. He only wanted some competent company. “Would his plant know?” He asked.

Spitting out a mouth full of wood, Frank sat on his furry little behind. “That thing is a dumb as a rock. It couldn't find it's own reflection.”

“You don't have to be mean about it.” Alfred scoffed.

Frank laughed, or more accurately, squeaked in humour. He then tugged the sunflora's pot in front of the floor length mirror. The sunflora instantly perked up, facing it's reflection. “Friend?”

“It can't be that stupid.” Alfred muttered.

“Friend. Hello Friend.” The sunflora was conversing with itself. It really was that slow.

“I told you.” Frank commented, curling up on his pet pillow.

The loneliness was becoming rather unbearable now. Alfred did the next best thing he could think of. He raided Ivan's dirty laundry pile, grabbing a fluffy sweater. Pulling it over a pillow for squeezable form, he took Ivan's blanket too. Surrounded by soft Ivan scented things, Alfred's rattled mind could rest. Hugging the pillow and nuzzling that strangely familiar musk, he finally slept.

Morning came, and there was no Ivan to be seen. Alfred was crestfallen at this discovery. He was also annoyed by another. It was the typical morning wood most men suffered, but it simply wouldn't die. He was very horny for something and a quick rub wasn't going to fix it. With an irritated huff, he threw the blanket aside and reached for anything to do the job.

Alfred hadn't been this... needy in a long time, not since he could remember. As a result he didn't have much lube around, or toys to help the situation. Once more raiding Ivan's half of their shared room, he found a nightstand stuffed with all sorts of things. Some objects were beaded and alien. Other toys were familiar despite Alfred never recalling having used them.

Confused, he grabbed one and took care of himself. Maybe it was the fact it belong to Ivan. Maybe the toy had a different feel around him. Either way it solved his obnoxious problem quickly. Now to clean up and get ready for work.

Work was the same as it always was. The main trouble was the gaps in memory. Alfred took an extra twenty minutes to realize the rest of the crew was ten stories up from him. They were already installing walls, when Alfred only remembered them lining up rebar.

Worse, was the snickering and chatter behind his back. The entire crew seemed to have some secret joke on him. Finally, the impatient blonde couldn't stand it anymore. He marched up to his twin brother at the beginning of a lunch break. “You are going to explain why everyone is laughing at me.” Alfred demanded.

Matthew was flustered as he looked for any way to escape this conversation. Much like Ivan, he was being very dodgy. “Well, um, you see... Oh look, I have to go!” A wrist was grabbed before the twin sibling could escape. Alfred wanted answers and he wanted them now.

“Tell me.”

At this, Matthew's tense shoulders slacked. “We'll need to speak in private then.”

They were a few floors from the top, munching on sandwiches and a shared jar of pickles. The place was was walled in enough that Gilbert couldn't follow without tearing up freshly painted barriers. This was for the best, since the metal moron was a horrible gossip.

“So why am I the joke of the crew?” Alfred asked as they sat.

“Well... you see, you uh, said you were going to marry Ivan about a week ago. I had to stop you from buying a wedding ring.”

Alfred was dumbstruck at this. He didn't recall anything like that at all. “That's insane. I'm... straight-ish, and he's super gay. And he probably doesn't even want me that way anyway. That's fine. I mean, were supposed to be friends, and that's good enough. Right? Because it is. Stop looking at me like that!” He snapped at his sibling towards the end of his aimless rambles, mysteriously anxious.

Matthew said nothing, simply giving that awful look. A mix of pity and concern one gave to a guy with a broken arm. Alfred wasn't broken. He was just confused, and maybe a little bit lonely... and wanted Ivan to come home. This was all normal damn it! Alfred was normal! A yawn ripped out of him while internal conflict raged.

“Tired?” Matthew finally spoke.

“Yeah, I feel like... a part of my brain got scooped out.” Alfred admitted. No matter how much he slept, he never felt awake or recharged. Not even an expensive cup of coffee did the trick.

“Well, if you need any help with anything later...” Matthew's sentence hung in the air as an offer. It was an offer that would inevitably be accepted. If Alfred became anymore exhausted, he was going to make mistakes while wiring walls.

“Maybe. Tell Ivan to come home if you see him. I mi... mean that, um...” _I miss him so much I can't sleep well. I miss his bitchy little arguments during breakfast._ “I mean that, he left a bunch of stuff all over the place. He needs to come clean it up.” Alfred hated how desperate he sounded inside, annoying unknown feelings scratching to get out. Not on Alfred's watch!

Matthew nodded. “I will. I need to stop by the Pokemon centre. Patches got sick earlier.” The useless delibird lay around nearby like a loaf, wheezing and complaining mostly for dramatics. Why he was named Patches at all was weird, since his red and white feather coat was healthy and shiny.

The day rolled by quickly, mindless in it's repetition. The only interruption was of Alfred's radio. “Rats on floor six.” One of the newer guys called through in crackling tone.

Grumbling unpleasantness, Alfred repelled down to the sixth floor in a safety harness. The elevator wasn't installed yet, so there was an open shaft running all the way down. Getting off at a gaping hole that would be an elevator door, he freed himself from the harness and explored. Alfred's flashlight cut through the blackness of the unlit halls. He followed faint yet familiar sounds.

The conversation grew more clear as he approached. “Oh wow, this is amazing.” “Let me have another lick!” “You already had three!” “I feel so fluffy! Am I fluffy?” All the voices sounded absolutely drunk. Alfred finally found the source. It was a riachu and two pikachus crowded around a chewed hole in the wall. They were taking turns licking exposed wires.

“Oh shit! It's a human!” one pikachu squeaked in concern. It tried to run but fell over and started giggling.

“Hoooman. What a strange Pokemon they are.” The riachu wondered out loud, wire still between it's teeth. The other pikachu was sober enough to have escaped out the door, ditching it's friends.

Alfred grinned, firing his net gun on the inebriated pests. A full second after they were caught in the device, both cursed “Oh no!” in drunken delay. The bagged creatures now set aside, Alfred had to deal with the live wire hanging out. There was an irresistible tang in the air, a live taste. Ever since being shocked badly, he could almost smell the static build up. It always made him hungry.

Sucking in a deep breath, Alfred savoured the smell of electricity. A stupid idea came to mind instantly. A deadly idea. An undeniable idea.

_Touch the live wires._

That was a bad idea that nearly killed him before.

_Touch them._

Alfred was hungry, and tired. These two conditions had not changed much despite two days of rest and care. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breathe again. He wanted to touch it didn't he? He never really learned much. Opening his eyes, he realized he had a hand above the live wire. With a moment more of hesitation, he let it fall and wrap around the thing.

Instead of death, warmth flooded him. He instantly felt awake and... _amazing_. It was a high no coffee could ever provide. Sinking to his knees from euphoria, Alfred moaned loudly and shuddered in pleasure.

“Share some with us human.” the riachu complained, upset.

“We found it first.” the other pest added.

“F-f-fuck.” Alfred whispered, both hands around the live wire now. It was too much all at once, slowly turning to pain. With a gasp, he let go and lay on his side. His heart raced as he panted, needing a moment to settle jelly legs. That was the mostly inexplicably hot thing he'd ever done. Holding on with something of a lower voltage could probably made him cum in his uniform.

The radio on his belt crackled to life again. “How many rats are down there? The power use is going crazy!”

With a heavy blush, Alfred steadied himself enough to sit up. “I took care of it boss. Cleaning up now.” He grinned happily after finishing the call. This little experiment was going to be repeated again some time soon.

After work, Alfred felt so alive! He had so much energy he decided to run to the Pokemon centre. Gilbert had no hope of keeping up, taking a solid five minutes to meet with Alfred in front of the place. “Slow... down. Tired.” Gilbert panted, limp on the ground after. Of course, this blocked half the street because he was forty feet long.

“In the ball bud, I'll get you freshened up.” Alfred gestured to the open ultra ball. Gilbert gladly complied, and traffic was relieved. Stepping into the Pokemon centre, Ivan was spotted immediately. Alfred headed towards the skittish roommate, but Ivan saw him coming. Still, the larger man didn't have years of experience in the military. Alfred vaulted over the nurse desk as his query tried to flee.

The chase continued through an 'Employees Only' door, then over a fallen table. Finally, Ivan was cornered, looking scared out of his mind. Alfred had no idea why, hugging the man softly. He had to. He wanted to. After five whole days with no movie time together, Alfred was totally touch starved.

“I don't know why you're scared buddy. I'll beat up whoever fucked with you, okay?”

At this, his hug was shakily returned, then tightened. It felt nice. “Y-you don't hate me?” Ivan whispered.

“No. Why would I hate my best friend?” That's exactly what Ivan was to Alfred. Despite his weirdly accurate dreams, which all involved tons of gay sex... with his best friend. Despite Alfred's nosy brother, and his boss, and almost everyone in his life. Because they were stupid.

“I thought you would hate me.” Ivan admitted softly.

Before Alfred could respond, a cop burst into the room with his houndour. Gun drawn, the man was on full alert. “Nurse Braginsky, you were seen being assaulted! Are you okay?” The Pokemon growled, feeding off it's master's mood.

“I'm fine, it was a prank.” Ivan replied sweetly, still holding onto Alfred like a vice.

“So, no danger?” The man asked, lowering his weapon.

“We're good.” The nurse repeated.

“Dang. I wanted to bite a bad guy.” The black furred beast whined, canine expression drooping slightly. “Come boy! Let's return to our post.” the cop sounded out, leaving. His pet followed, little stub tail wagging.

Alfred rested his head on Ivan's shoulder, letting out a tense sigh. “Security here is crazy huh.”

“It can be. This location sells healing items, and there's a lot of nurses. I guess they want to protect their goods.”

At the mention of protecting one's goods, Alfred blushed as a few impure thoughts floated up. He ended the very long hug, coughing into his fist. “Well, um... After work. We should go see a play or a movie for real.”

“A trip to the movies, like a... um... yes, I'll go to the movies with you.” Ivan seemed oddly breathless. It was in the same instance as Alfred's strangely pattering heart. With Frankie and the sunflora at Matthew's condo, it would be the only opportunity they would be alone.

Leaving Gilbert with Ivan, Alfred escorted himself outside. It was a struggle to calm his senses beyond the sterile environment of the centre. It was just a trip to the playhouse. He shouldn't be so anxious. This was going to be _fun_. They could get snacks together. Maybe Alfred could pick up an aspear flower bouquet... Did friends buy each other flowers? Ivan had been getting flowers for the apartment since a few years ago. The flowers were going to end up at home anyway. This would basically be the same.

Yeah. Getting flowers for his best roommate in the whole world was fine. The walk together was pleasant, as they chatted and reacquainted after five long days. They would stop and admire pretty things in shop windows. They arrived at the playhouse after a time, but there was a production already in progress. Alfred bribed the ticket sales lady, and they got in anyway. They had only missed ten minutes as it was.

The real trouble began after the play. It had been a funny performance, a pure comedy about a Mr. Mime and a blind man trying to journey across New York and survive. More than a few gut laughs were drawn out of Alfred and Ivan. Leaving the playhouse felt enchanted, snow glittering from electric light as it fell.

It all accented a certain mood that plagued Alfred's brain. There was a faint static, a spark between the two men Alfred didn't know how to address. This wasn't a new phenomena, having been around for years. But what did you do with it? Why was it so pronounced now? Did something happen during his memory lapses that fanned this possessive link into a new stirring?

“Thank you for the flowers Alfred. I love them.” Ivan murmured, half his expression hidden in scarf. Alfred didn't need to see it to know his friend was flustered.

“No problem. Maybe we should get back, so Mattie can have a life again.” Alfred answered in the same hushed volume. He impulsively grabbed Ivan's free hand, giving it a squeeze. It seemed like the right thing to do. Alfred felt like his heart was floating in his chest, joyous and light. He let out a small happy sound, unable to produce words for this usually suppressed emotion.

This was naturally interrupted by the chaos of New York city. A drunk man hanging off the shoulder of a woman was tottering by. Despite the late hour, there was always a jerk to ruin things in sight range. “Hey, it's a fag.” the man slurred in deliberate hurt.

“What did you call him?” Alfred growled, fingers curling into a fist around Ivan's hand. He couldn't help himself, having defended the man since college days.

“Please don't. It's not worth it.” Ivan appealed in near whisper, eyes averted.

“No. No one calls my buddy a fag!” Alfred threatened, letting go to approach the idiot.

“I wasn't calling him a fag, I was calling you a fag. Great big dumbshit.” the drunk repeated, ensuring a course of collision with Alfred's fist.

“You shut the fuck up and keep walking, or I'm going to kick your ass.” Alfred promised darkly. The lights giving the playhouse a golden glow flickered as a street lamp went out.

“Watcha gonna do? Strangle me with a pride flag?” The drunk leered.

“No, I'm gonna break your fuckin' teeth if you don't move along.” The urge to beat this man to a pulp was strong, stronger than other encounters. The fuzz on Alfred's wool jacket stood on end as he clenched his fists. He hated slander and accusations more than any other social crime.

“Alfred, maybe we should just leave.” Ivan plead, trying to tug the stubborn man down the street. Alfred refused to budge, angrier than when he lost his lottery ticket. It had only been a winner for $200, but that was still a big deal.

“Listen to your bitch.” the jerk sneered.

It was a knee jerk reaction, like cussing after stubbing a toe. Alfred's fist pulled back, then plunged forward in destruction. It's flight was beautiful, visually sparking with electricity as it connected. Alfred could feel the reverberation with that stubbly jaw, the man falling cold like timber.

The equally drunk woman gasped in thick Bronx accent, almost nasal. “What is the matter with you!?”

“We need to go, _now_.” Ivan urged, finally dragging Alfred with limited success.

Alfred meanwhile, was having a lesser meltdown. He remembered the pokedex registering him as a Pokemon. Ivan had promised him it was malfunctioning. It was one of the last clear memories before the gap started. Alfred remembered that so brightly. He also had bad memories from war, of electrovires and dragonites battling with high voltage punches.

Two blocks from the scene of the fight, It was pretty clear they weren't being followed. Ivan stopped his brisk jog, panting. It make small white clouds in the crisp cold of night. “You need to stop picking fights!” he chastised.

“Ivan.”

Ivan continued to fret and scold. “It's cute you want to defend my honour, but it's going to get us in trouble! I swear, my poor heart!”

“Ivan.” Alfred whispered again.

“What!?”

In a low tone, Alfred stammered “I think I used Thunder Punch on that guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember folks! Starting fist fights or touching live wires is stupid and dangerous!


	18. Chapter 18

It was safer to avoid subjects of concern, as both men knew well. Ivan wasn't talking about the missing two weeks of time. Alfred wasn't talking about using a Pokemon move on a local drunk. This was a silent truce neither was willing to break. In this way, their old lives resumed. Once more they chatted at breakfast about things they hated. Again, they had dinners and movies together. It was the natural way, and it never should have been interrupted.

This morning was a day off for Alfred. Once again naked and comfortable under his bed covers, the blonde had yet to fully wake. Half formed dreams and thoughts slipped by in this happy warm way. That was, until Ivan's thundering voice shattered the peace.

“ALFRED FREDRICK JONES!” It was an angry roar Ivan didn't use often, heard through every wall.

“I was trying to sleep!” Alfred yelled, hiding under his blankets.

“I SWEAR TO ARCEUS I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU!” Stomping neared, and Alfred was slightly worried. He felt around for his discarded boxers under rumpled blankets. He barely had them pulled on when Ivan appeared in the open door. A barely awake Ivan looked absolutely pissed as he loomed over Alfred's bed. The pink star spotted pyjamas really reduced his intimidation factor.

“Hey big guy.” Alfred squeaked, shrinking under the covers.

“What did I ask you to do last night?” Ivan asked in venomous tone, eyes narrowed.

“Uh... change sunflora's dirt... because you were going to be late from work.” Alfred mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“... and then what?”

Alfred paused, squinting in thought. Nothing came to mind, but his angry companion expecting something. “Uh... tell you how _great_ you look this morning.”

“Put the dirt away immediately after, you moron!” Ivan hissed.

“I don't see why I couldn't have put it away later.” Alfred complained, stretching and yawning.

“This is why!” Ivan nearly yelled, showing what was cupped in his dirty hands. It was a tiny sunkern, two leafy sprouts out the top of it's body. It's dark tiny body was nothing more than a round blob. It's two cute eyes took a moment to focus on Alfred.

“Sunkern!” It peeped, barely bigger than Ivan's thumb.

“Aww. Look at that cutie.” Alfred gushed.

“Are the eleven other ones going to be that cute when we have to care for them all?” Ivan snipped, upset.

Alfred rolled his eyes. “You're so dramatic Ivy. It's just one sunkern.”

Ivan dragged Alfred out of bed by the arm, revealing a disaster zone one room over. The massive bag of soil propped against the couch was nothing but shredded burlap. The soil had been perfectly spread into a layer most of a hand deep on the floor. In the middle of this mound was a content sunflora basking in morning light. All around the plant almost a dozen pairs of tiny leaves sprouted from the dirt. A few sunkern peeped their little eyes out of the ground, watching Alfred dimly.

“Wow, your sunflora is a freak! This is so many babies!” Alfred exclaimed. He was surprised at the sheer damage the overrated house plant had done.

Pushing the little sunkern back into the dirt near it's parent, Ivan shook his head. “This is why you have to hide the bag of dirt.”

“I didn't know the thing would lay sunkern all over the place!” Alfred insisted.

“It's what sunflora _do_. They're worse than ratattas!” Ivan grumbled. He tip toed around the huge dirt mound to sit on the couch.

“Hello.” Sunflora greeted cheerfully.

“Hello, you horny creature.” Ivan greeted dryly.

“He-lo.” A tiny chorus of sunkern voices repeated after their parent.

Alfred thought it was cutest. He then realized something awful. “These guys are like... retarded.”

“Yep.” Ivan answered.

“Flower.” sunflora informed, having just the best day. “Fla-wer.” twelve little voices repeated, completely out of sync. This was going to be just the best day. Assuming they kept the critters because Ivan was a giant softie, this was their new morning conversation. A dozen little idiots in pots blurting out monosyllable nonsense.

“Well, it's a good thing you woke up. Your foreman boss man called.” Ivan informed, leaning forward to pet the tiny leaf of a sunkern. It peeped in joy at getting any attention.

Alfred cringed, then pulled his crinkled boxers up all the way. “Ah... he sounded happy then.”

Ivan laughed, now petting a sunkern that had wriggled out of the dirt. “You know he didn't.”

“Should I get dressed, or what?” Alfred asked, not keen to go outside today.

“He said to call. He sounded pissed.” Ivan replied casually.

Well, this was guaranteed to be miserable. Alfred stood akimbo before the wall mounted rotary phone. He could do this. About to grab the phone, Alfred heard Ivan clear his throat. “What?” he asked impatiently.

Ivan looked aglow with slight colour, seemingly flustered again. He had been like that last week too, just before the fistfight with that idiot. The one Alfred was sure as hell not going to talk about. “Uh, are you going to get dressed?” Ivan asked shyly, having lost all his scary edge.

“You saw me naked before. I don't see what the deal is with me in boxers.” Alfred retorted, beginning to dial.

“I guess.” Ivan mumbled, looking up from the happy sunkern laying at his feet. He looked hungry as his gaze raked over Alfred's body. The poor fellow missed breakfast, Alfred guessed internally. Finished dialing a number nailed to the wall, the call went through.

A voice familiar in it's passive anger answered. “Greg White speaking.”

“Hey boss, I'm calling back.” Alfred greeted cheerfully, not put off by the tone.

“... _Jones_. I'm glad you called.”

“Why is that sir?”

There was a long pause between echoing responses. Some phone lines were barely maintained, giving shitty sound quality. “I would love to hear why you stole three thousand dollars in electricity from work. I can tolerate your lack of discretion about your personal life, but this is going too far.”

Alfred gasped in shock, not expecting such a terrifying number. He had only been doing electricity on his lunch breaks. It felt too good not to lay there and let the new pleasures wash away his stress. Maybe his voltage tolerance was increasing, but to consume so much! That was his entire monthly paycheck!

“Sir, I don't understand... I didn't know I was using so much...” Alfred answered in fear, realizing his appeal was on deaf ears.

“I don't know how you stole so much, but I don't care anymore. This is your two weeks notice. I would advise you use all your vacation days and enjoy this... time off.”

“Please, sir. You don't need to –” Alfred's plea was cut off.

“Good day, Mr. Jones.” His employer bid goodbye coldly, not listening anymore. The line went dead.

As Alfred stared at the held phone with gaping horror, Ivan spoke. “So... how many days before you go back to work this time?”

“N-n-never.” Alfred stammered, finally hanging the phone back up.

“Never, like a week? Or never like... Oh... You were fired.” Ivan clued in quickly, then patted his lap. “Alfred... come here.”

In shock, Alfred obeyed. He curled up on the couch, resting his head on Ivan's beefy thigh like a pillow. A big hand ruffled his hair, petting his scalp gently. With such effective comforts, words fell out of Alfred in droves.

“They f-f-fired me for using electricity at work and being gross about my personal life. I don't understand how either happened. It's not like I can even get laid, and it was a little bit of electricity at best... I don't know what t-t-to do.” He confessed in rapid fire words, wishing he could grossly cry all over the pyjama leg. 

“You could get any person you wanted, so don't be upset about that.” Ivan assured, notably depressed about this.

“I really can't. If I did, you'd be... sad I guess. Our friendship seems to mean a lot to you, and it... means a lot to me too. So I never really want to move out, or you know... whatever. I'm just being gross and feelings-ish.” Alfred dismissed his own words, reduced to a bare whisper.

“Oh, you're so sweet.” Ivan cooed, pulling Alfred into a side hug.

“I'm not.” Alfred denied, suddenly squirming with the need to escape. He couldn't place why, for there was no danger in such sheltering arms. The honey blond was certain he was going to die of blushing though. His heart wouldn't stop racing either. What was wrong with him!?

“You are the most sweet.” His long time roommate cuddled him, nuzzling his hair. Alfred swallowed thickly, unsure how to use words. His brain had partially turned to mush inexplicably. The mental killing blow came seconds after. Ivan gave a small chaste kiss on the kiss. Alfred's blush was like fire, in the one way it shouldn't. This felt _nice_.

Ivan had kissed him on the cheek and it felt nice.


	19. Chapter 19

Lars Van Den Berg was a man of simple motives and means. He had never been one for complications or ego. Once upon a life, he had been driven by something even more basal. Greed, deep rooted human greed sheltered in the position of an investment manager's life.

Of course It was hard to remain an investment manager when you thought you were going crazy. When Pokemon started talking was only the beginning of Lar's problems. The real issue was his incurable urge to dig. The dirty blonde became obsessed with it, destroying his yard. He even dug a hole in his basement. Lars was quick to lose his job due to “mid-life crisis.”

The final blow came in the form of a lost man. Directionless, sobbing, and on the soft side. Lars had always been detached from the dizzying world of romance. He was no stranger to alcohol though. There was hours wasted in bars and work events, looking but never touching. Always he calmly smoked, not pursuing. Yet in all of Toronto, one person captured his heart irreversibly.

Lars supposed Matthew's freckles and blonde locks were what sealed his doom. A bat of those lashes and Lars's old life was easily abandoned. Having a little something to hold onto certainly helped as well. He followed the cute man back to his own city state. Lars gave up everything, and he didn't regret it for a moment.

Following a boyfriend he never expected to have was not the only motivation though. The second reason was well beyond the rusty walls of New York. Unlike pampered Matthew, Lars chose to live outside the protective boundaries of the city. Honestly, he didn't have a choice. None of his remaining family did.

None of them had enough self control to be happy with city life. Well, everyone but Henri. He was something special. Lars chuckled as he explored the abandoned world beyond the wall. It was a wonderland place of apocalyptic human ruins dusted with fresh snow. Gnarled old trees grew out of everything. They were determined to destroy the ruins of Hempstead to the east of the wall.

Lars didn't know much about what Hempstead once was. When he arrived here seven years ago, it was exactly as it was now. Frozen in time, a shadow of war and conflict. The shells of residential houses no longer had intact possessions of the dead within. Mostly they were speared through with damage from trees and Pokemon.

Walking down the barely intact highway 24, Lars was in open terrain at the moment. The migrating swarms of sunflora kept this area clear with solar beams and cutting attacks. They adored open spaces to sunbathe and fuck in all spring and summer. No doubt the ground here was studded with hibernating sunkern. The delicious things could avoid being frozen for months by sleeping in deep burrows.

A rustle of sleeping earth, a slight vibration under Lar's feet, was the only warning. He scrambled for one of the few trees nearby, climbing it swiftly. The filthy man's own treasure hunting profession gave accidental disguise. He was so often waist deep in soil for truffles or rare rocks, he was the colour of the earth. He barely possessed his own scent anymore.

His silent and faithful companions, lopunny and diggersby hopped behind the tree. They knew what was going on. Unfortunately, the newest buneary babies did not. Lopunny gestured frantically at her young from behind the tree, but they just weren't paying attention. They were distracted by the increasing vibrations in the ground.

“Get over here!” Lars whispered harshly. They looked up and blinked. They were so incredibly stupid. He really though he had levelled up the smarter ones of the lot. No doubt the other 8 were enjoying their comparably cushy lives in service to the city.

It was too late. A mighty steelix surfaced from the earth like a great whale, dirt and rocks spraying everywhere. It was an apt description, given the earth was a nearly fluid medium for them. Lars was surprised at how rare and violent they really were. Gilbert had given such a friendly impression before, making this discovery shocking.

The lumbering steelix roared, slamming its tail on the torn up highway a few times. Marking it's territory, a very social thing to do. It then scooped and ate the frozen earth like it was mush. Shrivelled leaves could be seen within its huge jaws. The sixty foot monster was only surfacing to graze on sleeping sunkern.

The baby buneary finally did the right thing and copied their mother. They flattened to the ground and didn't dare move. Steelix had terrible eye sight, and a worse sense of smell. Remaining still and hidden was the best defence against most rock and steel types.

After one more scoop of nutritious sunkern speckled earth, the monster roared and burrowed back into the earth. After five tense minutes, Lars left the tree. He cooed and scooped the shaking little buneary off the ground. They had all naturally pissed themselves. Lar's mud stained old coat had experienced worse. Placing them in generous outer pockets, the journey continued.

Suddenly, diggersby bolted off. It was a signal of good things. The rabbit creature had a nose on it like no other. It scampered up a torn hill of recently toppled trees. No doubt, multiple Pokemon were marking territory before spring. Lars struggled to keep up, but his lopunny soon picked up the trail too. At the top of the mound, they dug frantically. In minutes, they unearthed their prizes.

A smattering of evolutionary stones glittered in cold winter light. No doubt this was a treasure hoard of a dragon type, or maybe that brutish steelix. It seemed all the species were quick to prepare for various mating seasons.

They fled the mound before it's creator could return and disembowel them. A find this nice could keep lars clothed most of the winter. He wasn't sure if one of the rocks was an active dawn stone or a discoloured shiny stone. Maybe Henri would know.

Dashing through ruins of a city past, the group stopped to sniff occasionally for treasures. Lars worked the urge to dig out of his system along the way. He was pleased to find several pointy stones, so sharp they made softer hands bleed. His however, were calloused and used to such things.

“Such a good day little bunnies.” Lars whispered to his long time friends. They were his Pokemon, but only out of formality. The hardy creatures had chose to work with him after all. All bunnies present meeped softly in agreement, not prone to talking. Most prey animals outside the walls chose to never speak at all, despite being capable of it. They generally made a ruckus only in the throes of death or passion.

Now to visit his sister and brother. Unlike Lars, they had been affected much more visually by their own evolutions. Lars was now certain there was no line between most pokemon and humans. New York was so eccentric and over populated, the citizens simply didn't realize how unnatural they were.

Until Lars made it obvious, Matthew wasn't aware he was strange. Normal people couldn't stand in freezing wind with nothing but a T-shirt on. Normal people didn't swim in half frozen rivers for fun. Normal people couldn't chill beverages with force of will alone. Matthew was so innocent and silly.

It took two more hours of travel through the wreckage of Hempstead. Finally, Lars spotted his destination from atop a small hill. It was a cluster of houses with a wall, lit by orange fires. It was a small village that defied wild forest, nothing officially recorded. It existed all the same. It was a newer settlement named Wellington, only twelve years old. It was christened after one of the few surviving street signs from before the war. That street sign now stood at the village centre as a monument to human tenacity.

Lars approached the village walls carefully. The residents were quick to spook as night approached. A familiar winged figure stood atop the walls, bow drawn with an arrow in place. “Who goes there?”

“It's me dumbass.” Lars yelled out, arms outward in exasperated gesture. Why was his brother like this every time.

Henri laughed, eventually lowering his bow and relaxing. “The only one stupid here is you. What kind of trader runs around in filthy rags?”

“A practical one. Let me in.” Lars insisted, now directly at the fierce wooden gate. Like much of the wall, it was thick and spiked. Attacking Pokemon mostly impaled themselves on the impressive architecture.

“Let him in.” Henri shouted to unknown villagers behind the wall. The heavy doors opened, groaning as they were pulled by two teams of rapidash riders. Once Lars was inside, four machamps pushed the gate shut and locked it with an iron beam. They then resumed loafing around in their winter clothes, snacking on nuts.

The village of Wellington was forever lively. All manner of former transients and New York citizens would dwell here. All of them were overtaken by their evolutions in ways that would disrupt existing social norms. Lar's sister Emma had only been living here to keep Henri company, until she accidentally handled a fire stone.

Now she was the local living fire pit, simply melting things for people or boiling water. All of this was for a fee, of course. The Van Den Berg family was a shrewd bunch after all. Her only remaining problem was control. She couldn't sleep in a wooden house without the thing being ashes by morning.

True to her role, Emma was making the rounds as evening fell. She liked to light all the street lamps herself for the budding community, making the streets safe visually. Lars spotted her fiery glow in the thinning evening crowds. People gave his sister plenty of space as she worked, feeding thin ribbons of pure flame into wicks up high.

“Emma!” Lars called out, wise not to spook her.

The sister twirled around, then clapped hands to her own cheeks in surprise. “Lars! It's been two weeks! You must tell me what you've been up to.”

“I will if you turn it down a notch.” he replied, starting to sweat in his coat a despite it being winter. Her aura of heat was that strong, and rather bright.

“Oh... right.” Emma clenched and squeezed in hilarious concentration. Soon, she appeared to be of average heat and luminescence, maybe a weak candle's worth. “Good?”

“Yeah. I missed you too.” the brother mumbled, finally hugging her. He couldn't do it for long or she would scorch his newest coat.

“Henri will say hello later. He's just grumpy because he's moulting again. His feathers are all messed up or something.”

Lars laughed at this, parting the now hot embrace. “Idiot.”

Emma walked as she worked, her nice black and red dress slightly stiff from fire retardant chemicals. It was spotted with yellow-gold detailing that openly advertised her role and wealth within the village. She seemed happy as she spoke. “I see you have new little bunny friends.”

“Yeah, lopunny's babies are grown enough to visit. I might train them. Maybe release them around here. We'll see how silly they are.” Lars replied, petting the babies in his dirty pockets. They poked out and watched the world pass.

“Hows your man wife?”

The question always got Lars square in the heart. He blushed and struggled to sound competent. “He's not... I wasn't planning to ask or anything. Matthew has his own life in the city, and I'm just a trader... He's not even... I don't have to tell you anything other than he's fine!”

“Breathe there, smooth talker.” Emma teased, rolling her eyes.

Lars took a moment to do just that. Thinking of Matthew made his brain do flips every time. “But he's not really fine? Because his brother evolved and its causing problems.”

“Oh?”

“Well, not this kind of problem.” Lars gestured to a man almost reptilian, walking with his equally scaly children. Physically changing was rare after all. “But Alfred keeps shorting out appliances, and breaking stuff by accident. I think with a bit of training, he might be able to stay in the city.”

“If he's in need of training, I'm sure the village will assist.” Emma agreed, bright amber eyes sparkling with mischief. Yes, Alfred was going to get the best training Lars could find. The more gruelling and cruel variety of discipline, his own family!


	20. INTERMISSION

Hello reader:

As you can tell, this is not a standard update. My life is currently quite busy and I'm having a hell of a time updating at all. Despite the lack of energy, I want to say _something_ instead being a ghost. During this particular story, I was contacted on Tumblr (@gospacegay) and on Discord (@Jupiterra) many times with questions about little details. Questions that are certainly fair to be raised. So, I decided to answer them here.

**Q: What Pokemon is Ivan (Russia) based on?**

**A:** He is a Clefable, more or less, with a dash of Chansey. An emotionally driven man that hides it all with a cool exterior, and quite defensive of who he cares about. He loves baby Pokemon and eggs.

**Q: What Pokemon is Alfred (America) based on?**

**A:** There was no fighting/electric Pokemon when I started this. I picked his typing based on his personality. I see fighting types as bold and sometimes brash. The type to pick a fight in the first place. Combined with the short attention span of an electric type, and his wild (manic) joy, Alfred is very much unique. He might have punched you in the gut months earlier, but he'll still go to the bar as your wing man.

**Q: What about the other characters, who are they based on?**

**A:** Lars (Netherlands) is based off of Diggersby, digging for little treasures and what not. He's a ground/normal type due to being rather calm as a person. Additionally, it is a reference to the Dutch's fear of the sea, and love of dirt dams.

Emma (Belgium) is kinda based on Magmar. I figured someone Magmar themed would have great hair. Fire was also picked because of the passionate fighting capable from inside the country itself. I pray I never piss off a Belgian.

Henri (Luxembourg) is normal/flying, with a lovely set of wings. He thinks hes the prettiest bird to be seen, though not in a malicious way. Flying/normal was chosen because Luxembourg is one of the richest countries in Europe, commonly used as a tax shelter. It's a place you can really 'fly high', at least for the wealthy.

Matthew is based on Beartic, but special attack focused. He was originally going to be based on Jynx. Psychic/ice for being a northern country, that regularly does diplomatic stuff and doctor missions. I suppose in a way, this is still the base of his personality. The Beartic will show more in upcoming chapters.

Arthur is very much underdeveloped at this point in the story. He has his own bit coming up.

**Q: Why is Gilbert (Prussia) a Steelix? Shouldn't he be a (insert Pokemon)?**

**A:** I see Gilbert as a strategist, traditional and mostly rigid in his thinking. This is another spin on the rock type to me. Steel typing would push the rock type further into the vanity area. Still stubborn, but now proud and flashy to boot! It was genuinely a tie between Steelix and Lucario for Gilbert.

In the end, Steelix was picked out of sentimentality. I have a sturdy Steelix on my sandstorm team that I use for hazard setups and earthquakes. He's called called Mr. Metal. I've had for him a few years. Alfred would have used Gilbert the same way.

**Q: Why is the world in a Pokemon based apocalypse?**

**A:** There is no simple answer for the apocalypse idea. This is largely due to Nintendo leaving huge blanks in their own product's story line. In general, I try to be loyal to the series as much as possible. I had to use real life locations instead of game or show locations due to critical lack of details. 

As for the apocalypse, I'm only hinting on that it might have happened. I carefully constructed the world based on observations from when I did the Arceus quest line in game, as well as lots of show and game events. Here's the cold facts: Pokemon appeared with no explanation a few centuries prior, and have been replacing regular animals every since. The appearance of many legendary Pokemon is also rather destructive, if you follow along in the movies. That's pretty much it. I had to analyze this sensibly. I approached it like a scientist and writer.

What causes mutations in nature? Radiation? Sudden environmental disaster? A great cosmic event like a meteor strike? Excessive human activity in a region for a sustained time period? Perhaps whatever happened centuries ago was a combination of these factors. Pick whatever one you like. This story supports any of those.

As for claiming there was a society before Pokemon appeared, I feel it's supported by the show and movies heavily. There is a _lot_ of abandoned temples, towns, houses, and tunnel systems that are encountered throughout the series. They just say “Oh look, a convenient tunnel/old house! Let's camp there!” and don't investigate. A lot of these ruins are old, but still in great condition. So, in my mind, something weird happened.

I had another observation. A lot of men are missing, and many towns are constantly underpopulated. I drew the conclusion that a terrible war occurred rather recently. There is actual episodes where a 'great war' is inferred to at least once. Even in the games, there is soldiers and old people that mumble vague mentions of a great war. The movies refer to a time of war between Pokemon and men as well. It is unclear if man was _using_ Pokemon to kill each other. Perhaps it was literally Pokemon trying to murder the human race or vice versa. You decide!

So, yes and no, a messy apocalypse may have occurred.

**Q: Why New York City instead of the Kanto Region?**

**A:** I used New York City because this is a Hetalia fic as well as a Pokemon fic. Hetalia readers might not _understand_ what Johto or Sinnoh even mean. A “normal” location both fandoms would know was safer.

**Q: What's your favourite Pokemon?**

**A:** Arcanine. He was my first fire type. I was that one kid that picked Squirtle instead, knowing full well all the other kids would have Charmander. I was a _god_ at battling.

**Q: How long will the story be?**

**A:** Truthfully I can't tell you. I only write when inspired, and if a story continues to inspire me, it gets more chapters. Some of my ideas don't survive 1,000 words, and others are like small books. I do hope to drag this one out though.

**Q: Is the Sunflora or Frankie the Pikachu based off any Pokemon/Hetalia characters?**

**A:** Sunflora is based off a very stupid yet lovable cat I had. It always sat on things it shouldn't. Frankie is based on Danny Devito, as well as several horrible New York City stereotypes. Frankie is lovable cultural trash.

**Q: Any spoilers or hints about the future?**

**A:** Well, just one. Kiku (Japan) will be making an important appearance. He's going to have a Ninetales companion.

And that's all for now folks! See you in the next chapter!


	21. Chapter 21

Closed circuit television cameras captured it all with grainy black and white splendour. It was the control centre for all military action on behalf of the great city state of New York. Today's subject of interest took up two of the hundred or so wall mounted screens. Several men tracked the ex-electrician known as Alfred Jones as he talked with ex-investor Lars Van Den Berg. Every word was captured in lip reading or actual audio recording.

One of the dark blue dressed men finally finished his work. Alfred was watched leaving the great walled city on foot with several friends. Out of direct city cameras, the monitors could finally rest easy a moment.

This reprieve was only a moment after all. With scrambled pace, several soldiers soon summarized the juiciest bits the General would like to see. Simple mentions like where they were going, what they were doing... the good stuff.

Finally one underling handed the hasty report to another before the faceless government goon set off. The city defence department was a labyrinthine nightmare for anyone not familiar. Almost three storeys underground, in its own secret division, the General's office was soon reached. No less than three sliding security doors at least ten inches thick had to be bypassed with daily codes. General Kiku Honda was a notoriously paranoid figure, as distrusting as he was super intelligent.

Finally, the lesser civil servant entered the sparse grey office. He saluted, then spoke. Each word was picked like a chain sequence that might otherwise explode in his face. “General Honda. I've brought you the daily report as requested.”

“Very good. You are dismissed.” General Honda barely gave this public servant a side glance, a lazy swivel of the chair to take the papers offered. The general was shorter than most, hair black and short. He didn't seem all that frightening. A second later, brown eyes flicked upward to the man. They held inhuman intensity. It was now clear, this short military leader could move mountains and make grown men piss themselves.

“Yes sir.” The lesser soldier stammered, fleeing.

General Honda's companion, an enigmatic ninetales, only watched the hasty retreat. Resting it's head on the General's lap, it's judgment was clear. The fox-like creature of grace and pale yellow fur was famous for hating anyone else but it's strange master.

00000

Once, they, he, she... the gender was unclear, the creature not aware of such issues. Once _it_ was alone. Asleep in the long dark where it was first born. There was pricks of light in the distance. One dot was larger than the others, almost yellow. It was always too far away to realistically wake up the creature with it's radioactive heat. So, it slept.

It woke up an era later, warm. Hot. Too hot! On fire! This was all just as disorienting as the change of scenery. The small thing was plunging through a gaseous envelope that covered a strange planet. Never before had it hurt so much to breach the primordial dust clouds of this star system. Not that there was primordial dust to disturb. In the time it had slept, the creature had missed planet formation and asteroid belt regulation.

Plunging into the increasingly blue atmosphere, the small being slammed into the ground shortly after. This pain was a new sensation. This alien new sky darkened and lightened five times before the injured thing could move. It's protective stony casing had been completely destroyed by the crash landing. Without the rocky cradle it had been born into, the lost being didn't really understand how to function.

All the same, it adjusted. It figured out how to breath and move, see and register movement properly. It took many rotations of this planet to finally dig itself free of the leaf strewn crash site. There was a world to learn about after all.

This planet was a delight, utterly dominated by a strange life form. Pink to brown skinned beings on long bipedal legs ruled every land. They called themselves humanity, and they were vast. They had metal eyes in the skies. They had large hives named cities, with great tall shells to sleep in at night. They seemed to master star light, for their gatherings glowed of faint lights in the dark. They animated the very metal of this planet into objects and moving platforms called cars.

As a creature of interstellar living metal, it was very impressed. It found out the humans had named it Jirachi, after the region it crashed in ages prior. A forest, a place of green organisms that reached for their sky master. Yes, that had been such a weird place to land.

Jirachi explored this place called Earth, learning and absorbing what it could. It was an innocent time of joy and intrigue. The fun was swiftly ended when Jirachi tried to leave the planet for new enterprises. It's tiny star shaped body couldn't produce enough speed to escape the earth's gravity. The white and yellow being strained but it could only fly so fast on it's telepathic power. Worse yet, it seemed to be oxygen dependant now in this new form.

So it was that Jirachi was trapped on this awful space rock. This wouldn't have been an issue, if only the small being had some sort of company. Humans were completely unable to process telepathy of Jirachi's strength. They often had brain injuries or fainted from communication attempts. The animals of this world were worse, too skittish or stupid to be friends.

It was then that Jirachi committed the biggest regret of it's life. It wished for a friend. It was the only thing the tiny being had ever wanted, and it gave every scrap of energy to this pure intention. The result was an ecological disaster of unseen scale. The very sky ripped open, birthing a strange white beast. It was a blinding figure of light that even the sun paled to.

A deep telepathic voice mingled in Jirachi's own mind. It was no longer alone. It was so happy... until his new friend was attacked by human military. This was seconds after being formed into being. The four legged beast of light roared in fury, vaporizing the entire area with burning energy. It was like radiation, but much more invasive. 

Saddened, Jirachi was familiar with cosmic destruction. It took eons for such things to run their course. It went back to sleep in a safe place, a cave. It knew not how long it rested. The wish had been exhausting. Only when it woke next, was the consequences of it's desire clear.

The human utopia of before was destroyed. The human race was now the minority of species on the planet. No more was there metal eyes or birds of the pink creatures ruling the sky. No more did sprawling hives of stone domiciles thrive. The few cities left were behind walls, fighting off mindless Pokemon attacks. All the animals were mutated or hyper powered monsters, infused with the radiation of Jirachi's long dead friend. No doubt the humans had killed the mythical being before their own slow decline.

It had been so long since this 'Arceus' had been killed that they worshipped it's distorted memory. It was a religion now, especially here in the place once called North America. Gripped by guilt, Jirachi formed a desperate plan. It would fix the planet... somehow. The endangered species called human would be preserved before all clean DNA samples were polluted by Arceus's evolutionary energy.

00000

General Honda browsed the latest reports, and rubbed his temples. “The water pollution, the air... These mutations... I can't... I've done it Sylvie. I can't save the humans. I killed them all because I was lonely.” he mourned, hiding his face in his hands.

“Why save them?” The ninetales prompted in her silky telepathic voice, known for her hatred of humanity. She was left for dead as a pup by them, which was understandable. She lacked such perspective to make critical judgment however.

She was only twelve years old, and the General's sixty seventh such companion. She didn't have billions of years alone to contemplate the fate of this particular solar system. It definitely had an expiry date. Unless humanity patched itself up in the next million or so years, it was going to get fried by the imminent decay of it's patron star.

“I just need to save them. I can't make another wish for at least three hundred years, so I have to... I have to do something. This is the only sentient race I've ever encountered and I might have killed them.” The false human confessed.

Sylvie huffed, offended, and Kiku Honda rolled his eyes. “A sentient race I didn't make by accident.” he added in amusement.

“You should relax a little, you're getting upset.” Sylvie offered telepathically, giving his hand a small lick.

It was tiring to hold up a human illusion that tricked heat sensors. The visage of General Honda melted away to reveal Jirachi's true form. It was less than one quarter the size, absolutely dwarfed in the imposing office chair. The ninetales picked up the light being in her jaws like a baby, at the back of the neck. Jirachi was then set in her bed of many tails and groomed.

“I love you master.” Sylvie crooned, once a mother of vulpix kits herself.

Eyes sliding shut from exhaustion, Jirachi hugged the soft bunches of fur. “I love you too Sylvie. Will you warn me?” it mentally yawned, almost under already.

“I'll wake you if any humans come.” the rather maternal friend promised with a glint of her mystic ruby eyes. With this assurance, Jirachi finally allowed himself to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

Arthur stewed in his own thoughts as he travelled along. It was getting harder to hide his pain, his constant itching. His skin crawled these days and no amount of ointments or gloves could solve it. The road to the edge of the city was barely lit, with a small squad of military men far in the distance. They patrolled with their various Pokemon companions.

“I'm bored.” the large feline form complained behind him. It was his spoiled brat of a Persian, a great big cat of cream coloured fur and insufferable ego.

“Shut up Francis.” Arthur snipped.

His annoying Noctowl of many faithful years glided from one lamp post to another, looking down in a wide gaze of amusement. “Someone has his feathers ruffled.”

“Shut up Allistor. I swear to Arceus you'll eat _scraps_ for a week if you don't drop it.” He threatened the proud owl. A few soldiers were starting to stare at the grumpy blonde, his hair like badly trimmed straw. It was unusual to see citizens up this late. It was even more strange to see one at the city walls, in the winter, during terrible weather.

“Stop. It's unsafe beyond the walls.” one soldier called out, when Arthur approached. The man's Arcanine sniffed the air curiously, then wagged it's pale puff of a curly tail. “Bird?” it asked, rather simple.

Talking Pokemon were such a curse. They were all stupid or full of awful pride. The only one that didn't bug him at work every hour of the day was Mr. Mime. He really was a mime it seemed. Francis was a typical cat, and Allistor the Noctowl was so much worse. The bratty bird was as snide to Arthur as he was loyal to Matthew.

“Get out of the way! My son is out there! He just went through!” Arthur demanded, not in the mood for legalities. Guilt weighed on his soul like a stone. Arthur had been more absent than usual due to his worsening condition. Rightfully, the sandy blonde didn't know if it was going to kill him or not. He was actually on the way to his son's apartment that very night to confess his woes. That was when he spotted Alfred walking with his glaringly gay roommate and a tall dirt stained stranger.

Human curiosity gripped the father. He needed to know what his precious offspring were up to. All this midnight spying and trailing led to the city outskirts. Having just seen his little boy pass through the gates, Arthur wanted to follow more than ever.

“You can't sir. It's unsafe. Those were inter-city traders. They have the legal right to pass, and are not under our required protection. _You_ are.” Another guard denied cooly.

“You think I sodding care about your red tape!? I know what's out there. I'm a damn veteran! I fought in the Borough Wars. I've killed more enemy Pokemon in combat than you _own_! I will not stand for being treated like a – ”

“Going out there will KILL you, old man.” a younger soldier cut him off impatiently.

“ **I know that**. I have Pokemon, let me through.” Arthur growled, pointing to his own two Pokemon. Francis the Persian sat, then yawned a toothy maw out of boredom. So many teeth. Allistor landed on the ground beside him, always ready for a scrap with someone.

“Fine. Let the crazy old man through.” the laid back captain ordered, too exhausted from his night shift vigil to really care.

Finally, Arthur and his very salty demeanour was let through the gates. After over a decade behind the walls, the desolation and the beauty of the old world was surprising. Wild sleeping forests dominated a once thriving region of fallen New York. The old road barely existed despite being well trodden by human boot prints. This was not surprising, since it was one of four entrances. More traders and messengers use to show up, until they were attacked on return journeys by bandits and Pokemon.

Aching in pain, Arthur would stop to recover once in a while. It was pretty clear there was only one place to go from the path anyway. Warm memories of past Hempstead echoed in Arthur's mind. They were warm and golden from nostalgia, unlike the low key blizzard hampering Arthur's journey. He was dressed well enough, but you couldn't see more than a stone's throw ahead.

_His wife a life time ago, in a little place outside the still half formed walls. Baby Matthew in her arms._

Arthur blinked a few stray tears away, forcing himself to walk past the old street he used to live on. It was a series of lifeless shells filling with snow now. Besides, he couldn't dawdle or he'd lose his son's tracks.

_Oblivious to increasing attacks, his Marian on the porch with seasonal lemonade. She glowed of beauty, five months pregnant with Alfred._

Allistor was becoming cold in the terrible weather, too used to his city life. Arthur struggled to look neutral as he hugged the silly bird in improvised heat. The trail was starting to fade from more aggressive snow fall.

_Marian, dead in the emergency room. They barely saved baby Alfred. Internal hemorrhaging from the natural birth attempt, they claimed. She shouldn't have done it unattended by medical professionals, they claimed. The hospital line had been busy. The hospital line was still busy. It was never not busy._

A grieving stutter of sound fell out Arthur. Curse the wars. Curse the pointless death! “Cold?” Francis asked, doing just great with his fluffy winter coat. For all the fuss it was to clean after, the Persian's pale fur was saving it's life.

“Y-yes.” Arthur lied, silently grieving.

“The wind has shifted direction. We've lost the scent, and we're losing the trail.” the snooty cat commented, not all that concerned.

“It's colder than a beartic's tit out here.” Allistor complained for the tenth time, plastered against Arthur for warmth.

“FINE! We'll wait a few hours to see if the weather settles.” Arthur bitched loudly, beginning to feel a little chilly himself. He looked back the way he came. His own indentations in the snow were beginning to fill and smooth away. The normally looming metal walls of New York were lost to flurried sky. The full moon was barely detectable, her faint light glittering off all the snow.

After tracking Alfred's trail two hours, Arthur found a long abandoned gas station and huddled in the back of it. Where the inventory storage would have been was the only place the wind didn't reach. It was a rusted thing, all the windows and doors missing.

Another cursed memory of old materialized. It was faded, of when Arthur crossed the Atlantic on the few large ships left. A few gas stations were still in operation when he was a boy. England's own gas had long used up by then, but prosperous America still had functioning fuel and cars. It was the whole reason Father moved from the isles, as one of the last car mechanics. Not that ungrateful Alfred and Matthew ever believed the claims and stories.

This was why Arthur never left his safe little jewellery shop. Ghosts of the past always came past to torture his soft heart. It took a lonely two hours for the blizzard to calm, but the damage was done. Not only was the trail long gone, but the hurting man was cold from inactivity.

“Bloody hell!” He cursed loudly, faltering now. His back was absolutely killing him, had been for days. Arthur needed to see his son urgently, since he was certain this was the end. After all, you couldn't go to a hospital because you were shedding feathers.

In concern, Francis offered to be a walking aide. “I guess I could help you, since you're not as great as me. You can learn how to be a better person from my own stylish grace.” he dismissed, his own kindness disguised by pride. Truthfully the war veteran Pokemon was much too high level for Arthur to control. He had only inherited the insufferable bastard because the poor thing was without master in war. Arthur was the only man dumb enough to fall for the piteous mewling, when Francis was discovered at his dead owner's side.

Francis has only been a Meowth then, and he still didn't listen. 

“I feed you, you selfish git.” Arthur panted, having to stop again.

“Because I _choose_ to eat your sad kibble.” the cat argued, as per usual.

Allistor, warm enough to function again, scouted high in the sky for a new direction. “I see fires!” The bird hooted loudly, circling back.

“Oh sure, yell it for every bandit in the area to hear.” Arthur yelled back, knowing damn well they were making too much noise anyway.

“I don't see any humans, or predators. It's too cold for 'em.” The bird retorted, leading the way to 'fire'.

“Why are you both so awful.” Arthur wheezed, walking ever more.

“Murkrow calling the kettle black.” Francis snickered, in his own way.

Arthur brooded but said nothing else. _Smart ass cat_.

00000

Cold, tired, and half numb, the miserable man was beginning to doubt his cretin of a bird companion. “Lights and tiny people” Allistor claimed. “We're approaching civilization.” The bird ranted. Civilization, Arthur's frozen ass. They were wandering beyond the heart of dead Hempstead. There was no life beyond the wall left, Mayor Vargus had claimed for years. Arthur assumed the man was right. After all, he was witness to the carnage the walls were designed to block.

This internal musing was interrupted when Arthur walked straight into a wooden sign post. He cursed and cupped his flushed face as he looked up. It was a _large_ sign of primitive carved planks, looking newer than any other structure so far. Crude English was scrawled on it in burn marks, followed by two other languages.

**Wellington Village – 20 minutes east. WELCOME TRADERS! Bring your ~~money~~ family and friends! Free water for tourists!**

Arthur was a little shocked there was anyone out here. The land was so feral and unforgiving without man to groom it. Still, free water and warmth was nice. He was absolutely parched as it was. Limping onward, he was determined not to die in the dark of this winter forest.

It felt like forever, but this fabled light Allistor had found was spotted. Weak orange light in the maze of the forest, twinkling and beckoning. The dense forest suddenly ended, a cleared area of land bizarrely opposing it. At the centre of the open field was a village with fierce spiky walls. A dozen thin trails of smoke trailed from it's hidden mass.

How miraculous! A large walled village thriving in this awful landscape! Astounded, Arthur clutched the once more cold Allistor to his chest and approached. He was so damn hungry and cold, he didn't much care.

Twenty feet from a massive log gate, voices called out. “Halt!”

Arthur shook a mantle of snow off his shoulders and looked up. Some guard, no older than fourteen, was atop the walls with a bow. He was not alone, with two much older compatriots. “I need inside, I'm freezing my damn jewels off!” Arthur yelled back. Francis laughed in his silent cat way.

“What is the nature of your visit.” Another man pestered.

“NOT DYING OF HYPOTHERMIA!”

“So... Tourism. You have anything to spend?” the young guard went on with a smirk. He was just enjoying his sweet time like a twat.

Arthur pawed through his coat pockets, fingers cold and pricking in their mittens. There was his spare reading glasses, a few screws, and a wallet stuffed with old cards and some money. Great. “Obviously. Let me in!”

A faint voice echoed over, unseen. “Sean! Stop being a prick and let the guy in!”

“FINE!” the teen yelled back, gesturing to unknown people after. The mighty wooden gate creaked open, revealing a strangely beautiful place within.

Rapidash riders pulled the gates open in two teams. People sparsely littered the streets as they walk about their business in fluffy parkas. Old fashioned street lamps cast a golden glow over frozen dirt paths, fashioned from scraps of old cars. Sturdy log cabins lined the main street, several appearing to be simple shops. It was an honest to Arceus medieval town. The postcard worthy scene was complete with Zebstrika drawn wagons, striped steeds covered in fluffy winter coats and harness bells.

Well, it would be picture worthy if there wasn't a woman on _fire_ in the middle of the road. “Shit! She's on fire! What the bloody hell is the matter with you lot! Help her!” He accused, lurching forward to the rescue. Even to throw snow on the woman, or something.

Several people laughed as the gate was closed by several sleepy Snorlax. “Emma's fine.” one replied, not moving a muscle from his guard post. 

The burning woman appeared to be not taking damage, snow melting instantly in her presence. She actually strolled in casual comfort, as if not on fire to begin with. The figure wore a nice black and red dress slightly stiff from fire retardant chemicals. It was spotted with yellow-gold detailing that openly advertised her role and wealth within the village. She seemed happy as she spoke, greeting a bewildered Arthur and company.

“As the official ambassador of Wellington Village, It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Emma Van Den Berg.” She offered a hand to shake, then realized she was a moving blaze of heat. She concentrated, her expression scrunching. The painful aura of heat receded to tolerable levels, but she still had a faint glow.

Arthur risked a short hand shake out of politeness. It scalded him like a branding iron. He yelped, withdrawing his touch in pain. “You are _cold_ , we need to get you to the medical hut.” Emma noted in alarm, briskly leading the way. The freezing man nodded and tried to follow, but he was so tired. Weakened from the talons of winter and inherent back pain, he stumbled and fell in a slush trail left by the ambassador.

“B-bollocks.” He cursed, exhausted and laying prone.

Francis licked his cheek in concern. “You pushed yourself too hard again.”

“Shut up cat.” Arthur retorted, trying to stand. To his relief, two guards helped upright his body. Directed by the door greeter made of actual fire, one guard even helped him walk to a particular cabin. It was painted white with a crooked red cross nailed above the crooked door. Great. Trust his life with the expertise from this shit hole.

Surprisingly, there was no human doctors. Only two little Audino in fleecy sweaters were inside. They were currently frolicking in a small pile of paper flowers and giggling. It was diabetes inducing how sweet it all was. One perked up and turned baby blue eyes to him. “Hello!”

“Uh... Hi?” Arthur greeted skeptically, perking a brow. Allistor the miserable Noctowl walked inside and huddled by a primitive electric space heater. The device currently had a Pikachu napping on top, acting as a power source.

“Patient?” One Audino asked in a twinkling voice.

“New patient! Are you sick?” the other asked, equally gay and jovial.

“NO, I'm just cold and –” The grumpy older man was cut off by happy cheers.

“Hurray! We'll help!” “Helping is friendship! Hurray for friendship!” “Hugs!” “More hugs!” The serenity of the little nurses was sickening to a salty Arthur. The tiny idiots were dancing around him and hugging his legs as they pulled him to a fresh bed.

I don't see how you can help me, I'm human for Arceus sa...” Arthur lost his sentence as he sat. A dream like warmth bathed his senses. A memory floated forth, joyful as it was ancient. The first dance with Marian an age ago, holding her soft form to his. She had been slightly taller than him with a slight crook to her nose. He only loved her more for the unique little details.

He blinked, remembering where he was once more. A huge yawn escaped him as he slumped, in far less pain than before... but it didn't matter. The clean bed was so soft, he was dreadfully worn out. Maybe a few minutes nap wouldn't hurt...

More moments of warmth came in the shallows of sleep. They were old happy memories of before Matthew, when he was enraptured in young love. Sometimes, familiar voices bled into his dreams. Strangely, that fiery Emma woman, Alfred's super gay roommate Ivan, and the Audino nurses were talking at some point.

_We can't just leave him... skin might tear... I'm sure that... proceeding with the... is that? A wing? I don't..._

The voices were unclear and almost impossible to distinguish in Arthur's sleep state. It was a good sign though. Where Alfred went, Ivan followed. Even hallowed family dinners of the past had been visited by Ivan. The pale giant might as well be Alfred's shadow.

Waking was a pleasant experience. Soft covers and flickering candle lights. He wasn't in the slightest pain or discomfort. He yawned and rolled to his side, looking around. A Chansey was present, chatting to the baby Pichu powering the space heater.

“Who's the cutest Pichu?”

“M-me!”

“That's right, you're a good little baby. Powering the heater all by yourself!” The pink oval of Chansey's body bounced a little as it clapped for the baby Pokemon.

“Excuse me, but I need to leave.” Arthur stated, sitting up and stretching. He ran a hand through his bed head hair. A few tawny feathers came out along side hair like straw. It was either hairy feathers, or feathery hairs. The texture was pleasing but wrong. Not again!

“More bed rest for you little chick.” Chansey ordered in sing song, forcing Arthur down. That pink Pokemon was so strong! He thrashed to get free then stopped. The man glanced in a tall mirror, seeing his wild scruffy nature, complete with emerald eyes and... no. No. NO. It was impossible!

Yet his reflection only showed the present situation. Arthur had ruffled brown wings tipped in black, folded up at the moment against his back. With all the agony of the past three months, the insanity of this very journey...

Arthur cracked like a peanut shell and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like flying types a lot. So this happened. Arthur is basically a male Mandibuzz. Broody, sentimental, sometimes flighty, and enjoys picking at stuff. Basically your perfect father-in-law.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn happening like right now. Just warning you.

Arching to pleasure, Lars was drowning in joy and glad to do it. The reason why was his boyfriend above him. Both men were as naked as the day they was born, Matthew gripping Lars's narrow hips. “Are you ready?” Matthew asked, animal lust alive in those lavender eyes. He wanted to ravage Lars sexually, and the willing partner wanted the very same.

Two weeks of silent lusting and planning finally had the lovers together. They were alone in Lars's small home at the village. They only had an hour at most, but _needs_ had to be tended to. Instead of words, Lars pulled him down into a hasty kiss. Wrapped around that amazing body, its soft dips of flesh. Plush perfection to match a wonderful cock. A whine escaped him, followed by a whispered prayer of “Mattie please...”

The prayer was answered with a grunt from Matthew. His blessed dick, slick and ready, pressed inside Lars's lovingly prepared body. They gasped in agreed pleasure as it pushed, slowly, steadily deeper. After a minute or so, Matthew was completely inside, panting and groaning.

“So full...” Lars whimpered, overwhelmed. He felt fit to burst from so much, but he already wanted more. He could feel his prostate being pressed and rubbed, making him squirm with need.

“If I... hurt you...” Matthew stammered, clearly struggling not to thrust.

“Give me a minute, you handsome man.” Lars insisted, securing his legs around those pale hips. So much man to hold, so little time on this planet.

“Okay... I... Mmm...” His boyfriend struggled to behave, quivering with the urge to fuck. His body stopped listening after another few breaths. Matthew pulled out slightly, then gave a hard thrust. This elicited a cry out of Lars, followed by “... M-more...”. He positively reeled from all the sensation.

They were two creatures as one, rutting into sacred shared heat. Their hearts pounded in tandem, as Matthew's thick cock railed that tight hole with relative gentleness. Despite a rough start, the wheaten blonde lover was rarely savage in his lovemaking.

Lost to everything, Lars babbled and let himself be used thoroughly. On one particularly effective angle, he let out a less than manly yell of “YES!”

Encouraged, Matthew was unceasing in his motion. His own pace picked up, then he let out a pained sound. Possessed, he pressed deeper and began to fuck like animal. It wasn't long before Matthew was on the brink, pounding Lars's ass in a loving fever. Finally, he came with a loud moan of “Fuck!”

Lars could feel the heat of Matthew spilling himself, and it was good. Still, his own dick stood tall and seeping. He was so close he was losing words. Instead he pawed at his lover desperately, sweaty and thirsty for relief. Relief came rapidly with several strokes of Matthew's soft hand. Still impaled on that gift of a cock, Lars achieved orgasm. Stars washed over his eyes as he went into ecstasy. A few ribbons of white took an amused Matthew by surprise, landing all over his chest.

Icing on a perfect cake.

The lovers remained a minute more before separating. The hollowness of Lars's ass was unwelcome after such a pleasing activity. Laying beside his tall beanpole of a lover, Matthew was equally sated. “Love you so much.” he whispered tiredly.

“I love you too.” Lars replied in kind. They lay together for a time, on the verge of sleep. That is, until someone banged on the door.

“You guys done doing gay stuff? I lost Ivan somewhere.” Alfred's obnoxious voice sounded out. It was a slap in the face of such an intimate moment. Lars wanted to tell him to fuck off, but knew better. The loud pest outside was basically his brother-in-law.

It seemed Matthew was doing the honours for him. “Go away Alfie. I'm tired.”

“I need to find him so we can all train together. Remember? Training? The reason you dragged me from Saturday sleep-in time? Come on it'll only take a few minutes maybe...” Alfred was not to be turned away.

Matthew caved easily. “Give me a few minutes.” He kissed and squeezed Lars once more. “Sorry bunny, I gotta deal with my ass hole brother.” he whispered, exhausted. “... Maybe I'll wake you up special later.” at this promise, two fingers slipped in Lars's well stretched hole and stroked the oversensitive walls.

Lars stuttered a breath at the sudden action. “I'd love that.” he mumbled, barely awake. The primitive wooden bed creaked from Matthew's shifting weight. Lars fell asleep happy.

00000

Lars was not lucky enough to wake up to gentle thrusts and familiar moans of adoration. He woke up alone in the late evening, ass hurting something wonderful. Frigid weather was raging outside. The local blizzard all but cleared the whitened streets of people. Now clean and dressed warmly, Lars brooded as he walked along. He spotted his sister chatting with an Espeon at the centre of the village. It wasn't hard to spot her, glowing like a weak lamp.

Carefully sauntering up to her, he was greeted warmly in Van Den Berg fashion. “Hey pouty face. Did your wife's dick break you again?” Emma teased.

Blushing some shade of indecent, Lars sputtered a poor defence. “No. He – We were _resting_ and it's none of your business.”

“Uh huh.” Emma teased. Even the Espeon rolled it's eyes at this bad lie. It nuzzled Emma's leg as a parting gesture, and walked off. This was to do Espeon stuff, Lars could only assume.

Lars coughed into his fist, changing subjects awkwardly. “So... Did they find Ivan?”

“Not yet. He followed a Chansey somewhere and we lost him. Everyone is waiting inside until then.”

Great. The village was not overly large, but it was packed to the brim with tiny huts and cabins. Going door to door would take all night. “So,” Lars began, “What do Chansey do for fun? He's probably there... The hatchery?”

“Nope.” Emma confirmed.

“The farm fields?”

“No, we looked.”

“The medical cabin?”

“No.”

“The mess hall?”

“No.”

“The bath house?”

“I swear we looked everywhere. In a place this small, a _baby_ should be able to find him.” Emma answered impatiently. The siblings then looked to each other with wide eyes. “ _Babies_.” they said in unison. They were immediately headed to the nursery. The hunch paid off.

Ivan's discovery was made in the fourth largest building the village had to offer. The nursery was a burned out pre-war restaurant. The intact metal and concrete skeleton had been cleaned up. It was built up to become a two story haven for vulnerable babies of human or Pokemon variety. Audinos and happy Chansey flocked here in their leisure time to do... whatever it was they considered fun.

Inside, was several lessons in progress. Two mostly human babies watched from the floor as a kneeling babysitter patiently showed them coloured flash cards. Not far away, An older Chansey slept on a floor cushion, surrounded by napping Torchics. The little balls of orange feathers were pressed into a fluffy cute mass of baby bird.

Emma was quick to bail, since the nursery was hot all year round. This left Lars to confront Ivan, who was on the floor with two Vulpix kits. He was totally absorbed in grooming them and feeding them treats. It was bizarre to see the otherwise hostile man so gentle. Ivan was usually a grumpy bear that refused to talk to Lars in the first place.

“Mr. Braginsky. It's time to go. The others are waiting for you in the mess hall.” Lars was ignored... or maybe not. It took the man a minute to look up and register he was talked to.

“Oh... I got lost.” he replied simply, young Vulpixes cuddled on his lap. The guy was a natural with such fragile creatures. It certainly explained the fairy typing he registered as on any pokedex. He smiled, a nearly predatory sight to Lars. The babies loved it, watching his expression intently.

The two main 'doctors' of the village, the sibling Audinos, skipped over. They guided the little ones off Ivan's lap. Finally free, he was standing next to Lars. They were equal in height, but Ivan was as wide as a damn door with suspected strength to match.

Honestly, Lars didn't know who Ivan was going to mock battle for training. If the pokedex readings were accurate, Ivan was the second highest level in the village. Only Emma was stronger, and her fire powers were dangerously uncontrollable when she got mad. The village did not want her burning down the place.

Leading the way, they ended up at the mess hall. It was just a simple longhouse with a primitive kitchen in the back. Improvised chairs and tables were rampant, salvaged or stolen from New York City. Many visiting traders started their careers by selling discards of wealthy city dwellers.

Matthew was there, the familiar Allistor perched on his leg. The loyal Noctowl was Matthew's starter Pokemon, and absolutely adored his master. The owl had only been left behind today because blizzards were crippling to his wings.

Ignoring the dinner crowd, Lars shoved his way to his lover. “How did you get here? We left you at Arthur's place.”

The owl turned his head too far, in the strange way Noctowls could. “Arthur came here.”

“Dad showed up at the gates with frostbite. He's in the medical cabin.” Matthew clarified, petting his owl. The bird hooted softly, happy to be at his master's side.

“Who cares. He's probably fine.” Alfred dismissed, walking over with a bowl of soup.

“Fedya!” A soft voice spoke behind Lars, almost unrecognizable as Ivan. He was simply a different person in Alfred's presence. Ivan waited until Alfred set down his food, then engaged what looked like a spine breaking hug.

The wiry blonde seemed just fine with the gesture, hugging back and laughing. “Big guy, we lost you!”

“I found a house full of puppies and baby birds.”

“That would do it, you big softie.”

The mushy conversation took an interesting turn. Ivan expressed genuine interest in Arthur's condition. “I want to see your father. He may need actual medical help.”

“You're a doctor?” Matthew was as surprised as everyone else in the smokey dining hall. Several pairs of eyes now tracked the conversation.

“No, I went to eight years of medical school for _fun_. Now where is Arthur?” Ivan's sarcasm was as thick as his hostile aura, but the message was heard all the same. Fact of the matter was the village didn't have a proper doctor. The Audinos and Chanseys were just filling in the gap poorly, with no education to speak of.

Lars and several curious villagers followed Ivan as he walked with purpose. Entering the tiny medical cabin, The small crowd was kept back by Emma's hot aura. Ivan re-emerged, expression stern. He looked to Lars, gesturing for him.

Uncertain, the trader approached. “Yeah?”

Ivan was not one for small talk. “I need the sharpest knife you can find, and clean water.” He then looked to Emma. “Are you squeamish?” The confounded sister shook her head, looking to Lars for clues. He could only shrug in return.

“Get those together, and find the little nurses. I'm going to perform a surgery on his back.” Ivan's proclamation was as intense as it was insane.

Surprisingly, Alfred was the one to oppose. “Ivy, you can't chop people open! They aren't Pokemon!”

“Where is the line Fedya!? What makes us different?” Ivan argued back just as passionately, pointing to a villager in the crowd.

It was an older man with a can of beer in hand. He was covered in black scales, a long reptilian tail dragging behind him. “What are you lookin' at?” the stranger sneered.

Alfred blinked in disbelief a moment, then swallowed. “Okay. I'll find the nurses.”

In minutes, the first surgery in the history of Wellington Village was going underway. Lars was never one for gore. Instead, he guarded the door so no one could interrupt the proceedings. The conversations coming from within were as chilling as they were bizarre.

“We can't just leave him like this.” Ivan declared.

Emma defied the cold mannered doctor predictably. “The skin might tear if you keep pressing there.”

“That is my intention, Miss Van Den Berg. I've seen this before. The sudden evolution of limbs is not a stable process.”

“I'm sure that chopping a man's back open is not smart.”

“Knife now, I am proceeding with the operation.” Still, Ivan was going ahead it seemed. A few villagers were also listening intently. Lars stopped them from looking inside, but they all still had ears by the door.

“If he dies...”

“Knife. Now. I accept the consequences.”

The arguments died down, the cabin so silent even the Pokemon nurses were unheard. A wet sound, ever faint. Lars already wanted to flee. It was the sound of meat being cut, he knew with dread. Mutters of “Heal Pulse here” or “Hold this” were the only noise made by Ivan.

After ten long minutes of unknown activity, One little Audino opened the door. It was splattered in human blood, yet still somehow cute. “All better!” It's sibling skipped merrily beside it, holding several strips of human skin. They looked yellow and dangerously infected. “All happy! Hurray!”

Lars grimaced in disgust, backing away. Ivan exited the building casually, his coat sleeves stained in crimson. He seemed rather pleased with himself, straightening his coat lapels. Emma merely leaned against the door frame, looking absolutely shocked.

“The sourpuss will be fine.” Ivan assured, looking back at his unwilling operation assistant. Lars could only hope his unofficial father-in-law wouldn't die.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More porn.

While Alfred had basically been dragged by Ivan and Lars to this weird ass village, he certainly wasn't happy about it. He was barely awake when he was ordered to toss some belongings in a bag and get dressed. It all led up to now, being broody by a fire pit with fuck all to do.

Alfred didn't like this village. Sure it was wholesome and nice. There was postcard imagery around every corner that would make Arceusmas card companies drool. But it was missing one vital component and Alfred didn't want to admit it.

 _Free flowing electricity_.

He was loathe to think of it, but the blonde missed the hum of the city. So much electricity alive in New York, thrumming beneath his feet. So easy to access, to steal and savour. The sheer pleasure of live energy washing over his senses... it almost rivalled sex. Not that Alfred was getting any outside of his dreams. They _were_ only dreams.

Enough of those not-gay-about-Ivan thoughts. Alfred, stood, tired and incurably hungry. He should head back to the mess hall and see what was on the menu. Maybe he could keep the food down this time. His stomach was all kinds of upset for some reason.

The mess hall was dim and claustrophobic as usual. Feeling slightly feverish, he wandered the snowy streets. After doing weird doctor stuff to Dad, Ivan had vanished again. Where was he? How did you lose a six foot tall marshmallow?

The village was deceptive for it's size. The place was packed to the walls with narrow roads and small huts. Alfred was in a maze like alleyway, hopelessly lost yet again. A business was spotted in this jumble of wooden cabins. The sign was obviously hand made and painted with folksy charm.

_Psychic Herakles – Palm Reading and More!_

Why not give it a try? Alfred could at least sit down in a warm house for a few minutes. The place appeared to be open, so he gave a few sound knocks.

There was yawn, then a questionable man answered the door. He was a tumbleweed of brown hair, barely awake. “Yeah?” His accent was unmistakably of another city-state, far from anything New York could offer.

“You're a psychic?” Alfred questioned him, skeptical.

“If you have goods to pay.”

Alfred had been warned of this practice ahead of time. He fished in his many coat pockets, finding his old glasses. He hadn't needed them since the electrical accident that messed up his life. The spectacles were handed in offering.

“This prescription is _way_ too strong. What else?” Herakles rejected the glasses immediately after trying them on. They were handed back with half ass care.

“Uh...” Alfred pulled out a box of band-aids, along with a rice crispy square in a bag. Ivan had made it for him. “This?”

“Mmm. Yes, come in. I'll read your future.” The man agreed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The cabin was about as impressive as it's owner. There wasn't decorations up or anything. Alfred wondered if he'd given up a tasty treat for nothing. Still, he sat in the chair offered. The cabin was warm, which was good enough.

“You overpaid, so I'll give you a good fortune.” the bedhead mystic began.

“Oh. Was I supposed to ask a question, or...”

“Shush.” The other cut him off, staring at him critically. Those green eyes pierced Alfred's soul in a way very unsettling. They almost _glowed_ with something golden. It was a relief when the man looked away. The uncomfortable moment was broken by a noisy bite into the rice crispy square. “Mmm. You can really taste the love in this.”

Alfred coughed into his fist, changing the subject. He had really wanted that treat. “So... Fortune?”

“Right. Well, first of all...” Herakles began, setting the rest of his treat on a table. “You have to stop masturbating when he's in the bedroom. Because he can definitely hear you. Don't know who the guy is, but he knows.”

The blonde blushed scarlet, ready to die from embarrassment. Private thoughts of touching in the secret of darkness, stifling groans with a pillow. Holy crap. There was _no way_ Ivan had heard it all. He hadn't said a thing to begin with.

Still, the psychic went on. “You're not sick. You're overcharged and lovesick. Doing that much electricity is unhealthy. Just get laid a few times and you'll be fine. Someone significant in your life would probably help with that.”

“I have to go.” Alfred sputtered. He just wanted to hide in a hole forever. Fleeing the cabin, Alfred ran blindly. Weaving between houses, he soon couldn't run at all. A certain southern reaction had sprung up at all the rosy thoughts the psychic had mentioned. Damn those unattended hormones!

The situation was only harder when Ivan showed up in his adorable winter coat. The blood stains from Arthur's operation were still there, but it didn't bother Alfred at all. He was fixated on relief, stepping up to his long time roommate.

“Ivy...” Alfred panted. So hard, so horny, he barely control his actions. So in need, he forgot why he was embarrassed.

Ivan was not blind to the atmosphere. His royal purple eyes were dark with mutual attraction. “You clearly have a fever.”

“You gotta fix me.” Alfred murmured, now resting his head on Ivan's chest.

Ivan struggled speak a moment, then silenced and swallowed. The nearly white blonde was not prone to fast movements, hating most athletic activities. Today he was swift, and motivated. They found the guest cabin in record time. Well, Alfred assumed it was the guest cabin. He didn't actually know what colour it was supposed to be. The door was kicked in either way.

It was a frenzy of kisses, scrambling and tripping over interior furniture. One room over, a bed was found. It was passably soft and horizontal, the only requirements needed. Weeks of erotic dreams and nearly three years of practised celibacy had whipped Alfred into a sexual spell. Whatever the hell happened in that two weeks of memory loss, it was powerful. It had revived his libido from its grave, never to rest again.

Neither man questioned this sudden encounter. Alfred was down to his boxers, getting rather frustrated. “Why are you still wearing clothes?” he whined.

“I'm trying, stop being a brat.”

“If you weren't so slow!”

“I'm going to fuck you so hard, you shut up.”

“We both know that's impossible.” Alfred taunted.

Their ridiculous argument made them both pause, then laugh. The joyful moment trailed to chuckles, then shared smiles. Finally Ivan hooked his thumbs into loosened pants and pushed them down. “Okay. Take off those boxers.”

Seeing Ivan in the nude confirmed the accuracy of some very sexual dreams. It also made Alfred realize what he was doing was crazy. He gets maybe a little feverish, and horny, and he's just jumping Ivan's bones. He was sick in the head. Alfred didn't even ask permission.

Ivan cocked his head, then smiled. “So shy little sunflower. I promise you, I will fit. You won't hurt.”

Alfred was confused, then realized Ivan was talking about his cock. It was already half hard, hanging like a damn third leg off his body. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. It was pretty big though. “I'm being rude. I'm... I just decided to fuck you on a whim. That's such a dickish thing to do, I should have asked or...”

Anxious babbling was ended suddenly by a harsh kiss. Ivan was all over him, having settled between Alfred's spread thighs. The boxers with little Torchic patterns were finally worked off Alfred, hanging off an ankle. Hands were everywhere, making Alfred swoon and moan. Carried away in a personal haze of lust, swears began tumbling out of him.

Fragments of dreams, or maybe drunk memory, floated by in this pleasure. Alfred became very excited without knowing why. It was a sense of knowing more was coming, matching vague visions of his erection being sucked perfectly. The most explicit sense of deja vu simply came over him. He knew he was going to get a blow job worthy of prayer, and he had no idea why.

Before he could voice such oddities, Ivan had began his personal mission. Soft roaming kisses headed steadily south. Circles were dragged across his sensitive skin with trimmed nails. Alfred felt like a precious object being tended to by practised hands. He was about to say as much, when electricity of another kind zipped up his spine.

It was a lick from base to tip of his eager erection, and it was wonderful. A gasping “Yes” fell out of Alfred as two, three, six more licks scrambled his ability to form words.

“You want more, my angel?” Ivan purred, nuzzling his cock and balls. It was hard to speak, feeling hot breath and soft lips on him. Alfred let out a whine instead, then whimpered “Please.”

The prayer was answered gratuitously. Alfred was sucked and tasted mercilessly. All the while, two thick fingers wormed inside his hole. It was surprising how easily Alfred was opened up. His ass was already stretched and being stroked internally when Alfred yelped and moaned.

Between being deep throated and fingered mercilessly, Alfred didn't stand a chance. He came suddenly into Ivan's throat. It constricted and swallowed around Alfred, so erotic it defied words. After a minute of floating back to earth, Alfred yawned widely.

Ivan make a wet pop as he got off Alfred's spent cock, looking so damn pleased with himself. “I'm not nearly done.” he promised, feeding Alfred some sort of crunchy cherry. It was crisp and slightly sour with few seeds.

It took a long moment to realize what the fruit was. It was a Leppa berry, commonly used to restore uses of Pokemon moves. The popular fruit was also rather famous in breeding. In layman's terms, it made some species able to mate for hours. After a few minutes, the berry's potent effects tingled down his spine. The sexual hunger of before was now a ocean of desire.

“Ivy, Ivy, I want... more.” Alfred begged, hard and ready to go again. He didn't know he could get this insatiable, and it was empowering.

Ivan had the most lovesick expression as he withdrew three probing fingers. “I'll give you more. I'll give you everything.” Alfred could tell from the gentle joy in the man's eyes, This was a promise of something more. The splayed blonde secretly hoped he would learn what this something more was.

00000

An unholy shriek tore Alfred from sleep. Instinctively he knew it belonged to his dad. Dad had made the same sound when Alfred brought home his first snake in a bucket. Ah, such fun childhood memories. Dad complained a lot in general, so the yelling and commotion was ignored. Remaining half buried under a snoring Ivan's limbs, Alfred was in no rush to move. Just a few more minutes under the covers...

The second time Alfred woke, the lantern in the room was lit. Ivan mumbled sleepily, shielding his eyes in Alfred's golden hair. Alfred covered his own eyes with his hands as the smaller spoon. It felt good having Ivan's body pressed so intimately against him.

A familiar voice cleared his throat then spoke. Boy, did Matthew sound pissed. “Get up Alfred.”

After a several blinks of adjustment, Alfred peeked through his fingers. “Hey...”

“Do you know what you did?” Matthew was in ultra parent mode, arms akimbo with the most stern expression. It was pretty damn intimidating, given how much more bulk the twin brother had on his frame.

“I... I love you?” Alfred offered hopefully, not aware yet.

“Love you too.” Ivan mumbled, sleep drunk and resting. The absent answer still made Alfred's heart flutter.

“You broke into a villager's house and fucked like animals. It smells like sex and piss in here.” Matthew hissed, clearly mad.

One blink. Two blinks. It finally hit Alfred what the hell they were talking about. “I thought... this was the guest cabin?” Truth be told, he had been trying to undo Ivan's damn belt buckle when they stumbled into this place. The attention wasn't really there for knowing the house number.

“No. You are going to get cleaned up or I swear to Arceus, I'm sicking Dad on you.”

The threat was real. Dad was not afraid to bust in during hot sex and drag Alfred's skinny ass off the mattress. Nothing was worse than that. “I'm going. I'm going.” the sleepy man mumbled, pawing around for his clothes. Matthew left, yelling “Ten minutes Alfie. _Ten minutes_.”

Alfred had every intention of getting up, he really did. The fact was that Ivan's impressive dick was a shower, not a grower. This was something to note, given the taller man's morning wood was still in Alfred's ass. Sliding a still slick hole off the member two inches, the impaled man whimpered in need. It was true, he fit Ivan like a glove. It felt so natural and practised to rock to and fro on Ivan's arousal.

Ivan thrust back, aware enough to refuse the separation. “No... stay.”

Several minutes later, Alfred was arching and happy, belly pressed against the mattress. It wasn't rough like before, slow and sweet. Grunting above him, Ivan whispered lovesick phrases as he rutted his hips. It was all so perfect, so nice a way. 

The sacred intimacy was shattered like cheap glass. Dad's scornful voice was heard in the cabin as a door was slammed. “ **Boy! I did not raise a prostitute!** ”

Ivan, being the little shit he was, laughed and gave several thrusts at a very effective angle. Alfred moaned in ecstasy, then cursed “Get-t-t off before he sees!”

“No.” Ivan denied happily, pinning Alfred in his vulnerable position. “I want him to know you're mine.” It was so cruel and childish, and sexy in a possessive way. Conflicted and approaching the edge, Alfred muffled his increasing volume in a pillow. So hot... So perfect. Ivan pushed him that final step, giving Alfred's seeping cock several strokes. He whimpered, and let instinct win.

Alfred came loudly, filthy sheets bunching in his grip. An alien blend of sick anxiety and sexual satisfaction mingled in his head as the worst happened. Dad entered the room. “How many times have I told you! That Ivan boy is a bad influence!”

“D-d-dad! It's... It's –” Alfred sputtered, only to be cut off. He was so flustered, he barely noticed Dad had black and brown wings on his back. He was more afraid of getting dragged into the snow naked.

“He is mine now.” Ivan purred, giving the most satisfied of cocky grins. He was sharply slapped in the face by the angry parental figure. Shocked at the reaction, he had a stunned expression. In all the confusion, Alfred was literally dragged out from under the naked man.

Still on jelly legs, Alfred stumbled a little as a baggy night gown and coat was shoved on his nude body. Dad was in full mother hen mode as he fumed and bitched endlessly. Numbly, the embarrassed son allowed himself to be dressed and dragged along in his father's own winter clothes.

“... I thought I taught you better! Not only do you _never_ call me, but you're traipsing around with that bloody idiot! That idiot and his dirt hippy friend, outside the walls! OUTSIDE THE WALLS! Do you know how dangerous it is out here? I almost died following you here! I followed you to make sure you were safe! Instead I found you getting stuffed like a roast Pidgey!”

Alfred blushed deeply and hid his face in the high collar of the coat. He was half dragged to the unassuming bath house in ankle deep snow. Two attendants sleepily waved them in. It was not surprising, given the ungodly hour of night.

Pouring hot water from a large tank to a wooden tub, Dad was not nearly finished his rant. “I just don't know what's possessed you to be so wild! I did the best I could to raise you and you're running around with hoodlums in strange villages!”

Feeling like a belittled child, and rightfully deserving it for once, Alfred dared to look from the floor. “Dad?” He spoke softly.

“What!?” Arthur snapped, fraught with anxiety. It showed in his tense posture, his ruffled wings, the worn frown lines on his face.

“I'm... sorry I made you worry.” Alfred murmured, wringing his hands. This stopped the parent's wrath completely. Those sharp green eyes went warm, the harsh frown softened to a flat line. It was the closest Dad came to smiling ever.

“Just... get in the tub little chick. You need to be cleaned up.” Dad muttered with startling affection, voice low. Quietly, Alfred was bathed and scrubbed by his parent. It was the most contact the two had shared since Alfred was sent away to boarding school at the age of 13. The son was so certain his daddy hated him after that.

Tired and exhausted, Alfred was cleaned like a child in the warm soapy water. Sleepily, he rested his head on the edge of the tub. In this familial ritual, Dad said rare words while lathering his son's soaked hair. “I know I'm not... a good father some days. But I do love you. You can tell me things sometimes.”

Never able to process these admissions well, Alfred sat up. Tightly hugging the parent with wet arms, he blamed watery eyes on the bath soap. For once, he didn't need words to express himself.


	25. Chapter 25

Ivan was hardly concerned with Alfred's training. The man's bitchy father was more entertaining. Arthur was currently tied up and nailed to a stump. Wings ruffled in stress, the parent would not stop complaining about the proceedings.

They were outside the walls on this fine morning, along with a hundred people from the village. Newcomers was enough of a reason for the bored village to turn up. Alfred actually getting public training was an excuse to stay and drink. Roughly five dozen chairs were in the dormant farmer fields.

“Now, the next lesson is agility.” Emma announced to Alfred, who was bundled up in a thick winter coat.

“Leave some snow behind” Lars called out, settled in a snow bank with Matthew. Alfred's marshmallow of a sibling was only in a summer shirt. How he didn't freeze to death was a mystery.

“What does agility have to do with anything?” Alfred complained, kicking at the ground.

“Simple! It's your survival!” Emma replied, taking a deep breath. A second later, she exhaled a cone of fire easily thirty feet long.

As Alfred cursed like a sailor and dodged arcs of fire, the crowd would woo and cheer from time to time. Arthur was losing his mind from the display, parenting mode never turning off. “Be careful! Don't get hurt!” The man's wings wriggled, trapped like the rest of him. Alfred's dad wasn't the only one concerned. Several Pokemon watched in interest, ranging from scared to excited.

“Oh no!” “Not friendship!” “Not want to see!” The two warmly dressed Audino fretted, adorable as they squeaked and warbled in fear. They took turns to cover each others eyes and hide behind Ivan's legs.

“Bite her! Bite her on the leg!” a retired police Arcanine called out, drawn into the competition.

Lars, who was supposed to be the referee, was distracted by a game of footsies with Matthew. Alfred cried out mid battle, clutching his shoulder. Ivan stood without thinking, yelling out “Stop the match!” In all the cheering, his voice was drowned out.

Alfred was seen beginning to panic, reaching for the pokeball on his waist. Ivan pushed past the people, struggling to interfere before...

“Gilbert! I choose you!”

 _Shit_. Ivan knew it was a natural reaction for Alfred when in danger. The number of times Gilbert had served and saved him in battle, it was understandable. The only problem was local politics. You see, wild Steelix were not afraid to kill people. They were top of the food chain here, not humanity.

Gilbert formed on the slush strewn ground, his shining body longer than the farm field. With a rock shattering tail slam and a roar, Gilbert yelled in his scraping voice “Who dares challenge the most awesome me!”

The panic was instant. The crowds scattered while screaming. “OH DEAR ARCEUS!” “Protect the children!” “Kill it with fire!” “We're not safe!”

Gilbert blinked, cocking his giant head in confusion. He then looked to his master. “What's happening?”

Ivan sighed and walked to Alfred's side, seeing him clutch his shoulder. It looked badly burned. Taking out a Pokedex, he scanned the man. It only took a moment to process, used to Alfred now.

SPECIES: ???  
LEVEL: 32

TYPE: ELECTRIC/FIGHTING  
ABILITY: LIGHTNING ROD  
NATURE: NAUGHTY

HEALTH: 72/96

THUNDER PUNCH: 12/15  
FORCE PALM: 10/10  
TAUNT: 14/20  
ELECTRIC TERRAIN: 7/12

“Silly Alfred. You keep getting hurt.” Ivan cooed, kneeling next to his lover. With a look of longing, he kissed the other. It was his favourite delivery of Heal Pulse by far. Ivan was starting to get the hang of his Pokemon healing powers. It was akin to flexing a muscle the right way.

The short burst of heat from Heal Pulse was replaced by another warmth. Seeing Alfred beneath him always made Ivan's judgment cloudy. Kneeing Alfred's legs apart, Ivan was already involved in more kisses. It all felt so hot, so good.

“No uses of Attract allowed.” Lars nagged, tapping him on the shoulder. Ivan looked up in irritation, then spotted the Pokedex screen. It had Ivan's own entry, updated from earlier. It seemed Ivan had accidentally used attract... three more times.

SPECIES: ???  
LEVEL: 34

TYPE: FAIRY  
ABILITY: REGENERATOR  
NATURE: SASSY

HEALTH: 249/249

HEAL PULSE: 7/10  
PLAY ROUGH: 9/10  
SLAM: 20/20  
ATTRACT: 7/15

With a shudder, Ivan willed himself to stop. Alfred looked up at him with a dopey smile. He was clearly affected by Attract, judging from the tent in his pants. It was obvious the snowy blonde had even less control than short tempered Alfred.

“You have even less control than him. You're up next, Braginsky... Emma it's okay! This steelix doesn't eat people!” Lars was bouncing between the flustered couple and his terrified sister. Emma was frozen in terror, staring while on fire more than usual.

It took a hour to convince the village Gilbert wasn't going to eat them. In the chaos, Ivan was happy to have his way. Sweet, wonderful lovemaking in it's prime. Ivan was on top of the world, getting his ass fingered divinely as he was kissed.

In the cramped guest cabin, there was only darkness and them. Travelling by touch, the lovers didn't exchange words as they both looked for relief. Ivan rather liked this Alfred, libido alive and kicking. A little clouded by Attract himself, Ivan was not being quiet. He was moaning Alfred's name like a prayer in minutes, on his back as he was penetrated properly.

Having been drugged by Attract so many times, Alfred was primal in his rhythm. Each thrust was deep and rough, a slap of skin. Ivan could feel the motions reverberate in his lower half, and he had no intention of stopping it. It was all perfection, building to a peak of joy. “Oh, Alfred, harder, ha-a-arder, ha... ha fuck! FUCK!” The bed wobbled and creaked from their conjoined efforts.

Ivan gasped and wheezed, spilling his seed in the dark of this moment. Losing words, he moaned as Alfred's instinctive urge to mate was met brilliantly. With a few wild thrusts, the beautiful man above him finally came in a strangled cry. Ivan didn't need to see to know what he was feeling up was sexy. Running thumbs over pert little nipples as that chest heaved with breath. Alfred was not a hairy fellow, unlike Ivan.

Their sacred time was sharply cut short by brutal winter sunlight. It was damn Lars again, accompanied by a suspiciously rosy cheeked Matthew. Some examples of purity they were. “I can't leave you two alone for more than twenty minutes.”

Already done after a particularly thorough fuck, Alfred mumbled “Just a few minutes, bro.” Ivan hummed his support of the idea, limp and content.

“Well, someone has to go.” Matthew pointed out, nuzzling his boyfriends arm.

Alfred, still inside, was going soft as he simply lay on top. His eyes fluttered shut, sleepy serenity on his face. What a crime to disturb that expression. “I'll go.” Ivan muttered, still having a bit of energy in his weary body.

After such a lovely coupling, going back to that field seemed like a waste. Still, Ivan was a guest here. He should attempt to follow their stupid customs. “So. It's clear you know your non-violent moves.” Lars began, leading the way. “But how about battling?”

There Emma was again, ready to go in the field. Gilbert was still here, loving all the attention. A few brave villagers were even feeding him leftover dinner bones, to test his passivity. If there was free protein involved, Gilbert was all for it.

“Okay. Let's go.” Ivan droned, exhausted and wanting to sleep. Ooh fire. So interesting. He easily sidestepped and moved with the bright attacks. Emma was easily becoming panicked as Ivan gained ground on her. He wasn't moved by her advanced pyrokinesis. He barely paid attention to it. Emma was the target, to be taken down.

Ivan was within striking distance after ten seconds. The fiery woman only wore a look of shock as she was punched in the jaw. Out cold, Ivan knelt down to examine her after. He felt bad for hitting a lady, even if she was a human flamethrower. It was clear she would be fine though. He helped the Audino nurses cart her off the field, then returned.

Lars Did a scan between matches to see what moves were used by both parties. Emma had used Flamethrower twice and one Nasty Plot, but still failed against Ivan's single use of Play Rough. She was simply too outmatched.

“I'll show him who's boss, Emma” A winged man vowed as he entered the field, his armour gleaming in the sun like his pale gold feathers. Removing his helmet, a styled mop of blonde hair flowed free. The charming smile almost had Ivan weak in the knees, but he resisted. He only turned into a submissive puddle of joy for his _Alfred_.

Charging at the winged figure, Ivan was not surprised when the man took flight. Those wings were quite large, just like Arthur's considerably uglier pair. The much smaller crowd hooted and yelled various encouragements.

“Henri! Henri! You can do it!”

“BEST BOY!”

“Strongest guard in town!”

So, this was 'Henri', the strongest guard in town. Ivan had heard of the man from Lars during the hellish hike here. Apparently he was Lars's little brother of sorts, fit from being beyond city walls most of his life.

The guard swooped high in the air, trying to use the moment to strike hard. Twice it missed, the third time it connected. It hurt something fierce, making Ivan's shoulder sting. It might even be bleeding. This only irritated Ivan beyond reason. He only wanted to rest and eat in peace on his Sunday off!

On the fourth Fly attack, Ivan readied himself. Another one might actually do him in. Henri streaked in at great speed, combat pose locked. That cocky grin was just infuriating. Ivan waited, and waited, then _grabbed_ a wing. It threw Henri off his game, redirecting all that flight momentum into the ground.

The landing actually crunched like bone. Gilbert laughed like a child. “Bird went splat!” The sound was scraping and terrible, putting no one at ease. The crowd silenced, concerned.

Anxious over causing harm, Ivan rushed to the man's side. He flipped the defeated man over and examined the damage. It was okay, a nose out of place, two teeth missing. Nothing fatal. The guy would be pissed his face was ruined though. Ivan moved the nose back to where it probably was before, releasing a surge of healing energy. It was easily invoked when Ivan's heart was so full of love.

This 'Henri' on the ground was not appreciative. “ **My face! My beautiful face!** ” he cried out in agony, still bleeding from his mouth.

“You're not missing that many teeth.” Ivan comforted him poorly.

“What?” The man looked devastated.

The battling looked done for the day, when a new challenger appeared. It was a scraggy fellow in a thick house coat, his brown hair wild. He still sipped a cup of coffee, looking barely alert. “I heard there was a thing going on.”

Lars was finished taking readings. Ivan had used three Slam attacks. Only one of them had landed. Henri had used Charm, and Fly many times. The few that landed had hurt badly. “Uh, this is the elected mayor. Everyone calls him Herakles.”

The mayor was as ridiculous looking as he was sleepy. “I thought I was a king.” he replied casually.

“You never clarified what title you wanted.” Henri commented as he was carried off, whistling slightly from missing teeth.

Lars turned around, addressing the growing crowds. “Newcomer Ivan versus Mayor Herakles!” Everyone present went wild in the audience. Meanwhile the Audino and Chansey present frowned. They were not keen on people beating each other senseless, even if it was for a purpose.

“Oooh you gonna get it now!” Some jeered. “Herakles! Herakles! He's our man!” others chanted. Ivan braced himself for battle after a Chansey patted his shoulder better with healing ointment. Only the mayor wouldn't _move_. He just stood there, sipping his coffee.

It was all an act. They connected eyes briefly, olive green meeting with Ivan's violet. The snowy blonde could have sworn the eyes glowed, before his balance suddenly failed. It took a second to regain his posture, a second too late. Ivan was suddenly attacked from the right. The coffee cup hitting him in the side hurt, but it was nothing compared to the Fly attack from earlier.

Still, the tactic was clear. Distract or lower stats, then get off an attack. Herakles was going work him down to nothing. Ivan thought furiously about what to do, barely dodging another cheap shot. He felt drunk, the ground beginning to wobble beneath him. After several missed punches, Ivan decided to go all the way. He was so turned around he was going fall. The tall man might as well fall on something soft.

Willingly accepting another strike, Ivan ignored the minor pain and latched on to that arm. He then let nature happen. He fell without grace or ceremony, dead weight pinning the mayor's legs. Ivan knew he was not a light fellow, having become more dense after the moonstone accident. He giggled, completely confused as his opponent failed to push him off.

Looking displeased at this partial defeat, Herakles did something strange. He began to sing. “You have done well, now rest, time to rest!”

The words were so soothing, so blissful. Ivan fell asleep instantly, peacefully. He rested a while, or so it felt. He woke in stages, like a gentle tide pulling back into the sea. He was back in the cramped guest cabin, dumped on the same bed as Alfred. Yawning, Ivan stretched and resumed being the bigger spoon.

How did he get here? Wasn't he outside before? Ivan didn't think much of it, happy to rest. It then struck him. He was battling the mayor, and psychically got his ass kicked. Ivan barely threw a straight punch the entire time. It was something to quietly admire, but never admit.

In all this cuddling, the crumpling of paper was heard. Grumbling, Ivan sat up to investigate. It seemed there was a note pinned to his sweater. Squinting by weak lantern light, Ivan read it.

_You battled well. Let's discuss opportunities in my office. ~ ~~Mayor~~ King Herakles_

Ivan scratched his head. What was there to talk about? All the same, it would be rude to not go. Giving a lustful glance to his resting lover, Ivan schemed. Maybe he could have fun with Alfred after too.


	26. Chapter 26

Alfred was conflicted. He was upset. He was having a very hard time controlling his volume. “I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!” he yelled like a child, reeling at the news. The news was that Ivan was possibly moving away. Hurt, indignation, and a dozen other emotions swirled like a storm.

“Was... was it something I did, or said. Why? Why are you moving away? Where is it? Did they threaten you? I can kick their ass!” Logical processing of emotion was not Alfred's strength. It showed as he spiralled out of control.

“Alfred... Alfred... I don't want to fight over this. I can't afford this place on my own. I won't make next month... It's a way out.” Ivan began weakly. He seemed almost hurt by Alfred yelling.

“But, you can't leave! I don't even have a job anymore! How am I going to survive!?” Alfred gestured to their apartment. Frankie was chilling in a corner with something he wasn't supposed to eat, while Sunflora and it's hoard of stupid children enjoyed being flowers by a window. There was memories in this place, fond warmth of the heart. It made the idea of separation even more painful.

“Alfred... Alfred come here.” Ivan soothed patting, his lap. The upset blonde stopped pacing angrily, looking over. After a long minute, Alfred conceded to the need for cuddles. Resting his head on Ivan's thigh, fingers were carded through Alfred's hair. He really wanted to remain mad, but this felt so nice.

“Remember in boarding school? I ruined my own grades to stay behind with you during your last year?” Ivan began sweetly. 

“Mmm. I guess.” Alfred mumbled, blushing at the sentiment of that memory.

“In college, you cheated for your entire term so that I wouldn't be stuck with a bad roommate. That was misguided, but... I really appreciated it. After you failed, you even picked out this apartment for us. You had to have it south facing.” Ivan continued to reminisce.

“You like sunrises.” Alfred whispered, averting his eyes more than usual as his heart pattered. His body was malfunctioning more than usual. “It had to be south facing so you could see sunrises and sunsets.”

“Now why would I ever abandon you here after all that?” The snowy blonde went on as he ruffled Alfred's hair more. The shorter man was rapidly turning into a happy pile of mush over such treatment.

“I... don't know. Maybe I did something, or I was a shitty roommate, or whatever.” Alfred admitted, his rarely exposed soul showing. So many years of absent parenting, only Matthew to cuddle or follow until Daddy got home.

“Do you want to hear about my new job?”

“I guess.” Alfred grunted, feigning disinterest. He was actually very interested but too proud to back out of his little fit for fear of looking wrong. Luckily, Ivan knew this. The big ol' sap knew everything about him.

“Well, I was offered a doctor's position at a new clinic. It has benefits. The equipment is crap, but I was going to buy a few things to make up for it. It's not that far from here... It comes with a room.”

“Well damn, that does sound nice.” The golden blonde blurted out verbally, genuinely impressed.

Ivan's hands rubbed calming circles in Alfred back now, feeling divinely wonderful. “A room with space for two dressers, and maybe a Sunflora or six.”

“Why would you need two dressers, you don't even have that many... oh. Oh. You mean... You want me to come with you?” Alfred babbled, feeling silly for his earlier rage now.

“Yes. Yes Alfred, I want you to come with me. Why else would I need two dressers?” Ivan was amused now, being a brat again.

“I don't know! Maybe you bought like... sixty new pink scarves.”

“Ah yes. Because I clearly wear at least four scarves at day, with no intention of washing them.”

“Shut up! It could happen!” Alfred retorted childishly, giving Ivan's leg a playful slap.

“Clearly I only have my scarf collection and nothing else. Baskets of scarves.” Ivan mocked Alfred with mirth, no longer stressed. 

“At least one hundred of them.” As Alfred joked along, a scandalous thought occurred. Ivan, in nothing but scarves. Stripping one off at a time, until – Okay, enough of that. Dead kittens. He had to think of so many sad dead kittens. Alfred cleared his throat, changing subjects awkwardly. “So... um, where is this dream job that will solve all of our problems?”

At this, Ivan hesitated. “Well... It's local.”

“Queens? The Manhattan Citadels? Bronx? Come on, give me a clue here.” Alfred pestered him, more curious with each head shake of refusal.

“It's... Wellington.”

“Wellington?” It took a long time to register the name, despite being so familiar to Alfred. “That crappy village we spent last weekend at? It was so horrible!” He objected the idea instantly, disgusted.

“It was not horrible. It was charming and fun, and I damn well know you had a blast training. Well, after that fire lady was defeated.” The way Ivan spoke was alarming, like he already accepted the job offer.

“I hate it there.” Alfred was not so cuddly anymore, sitting up and pouting.

“We both know why you're being a brat about this.” Ivan deadpanned, never one for taking shit from others.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Alfred denied instantly, a poor liar at the best of times. He crossed his arms firmly, hiding his hands. Ivan was having none of that today, yanking them free. They were shaking already. The golden blonde was a little clammy at the thought of breaching his untold problem. He knew Ivan was going to drag it up again.

“You used electricity this morning.”

Alfred hated the statement, the _accusation_ that he had no control over his... hobby. Yes, it was a hobby. If he didn't call it a fun little past time, he might have to think about the repercussions. “What of it?”

The forceful wrist grabs were transferred to softer hand holding. “You're losing control, sunflower.”

“I'm not! I'm not a child! I'm tired of hearing this from Mattie, and fuckin' Lars! Lars of all people! Overgrown dirty ass trader telling me what to do!” The more furious Alfred became, the more the lamp in the room began to flicker. Ivan looked mildly unimpressed as static frizzed his pale hair. It slowly became a poof of near-white blonde.

The sight finally broke Alfred out of his little moment. He instead laughed, hands to his face. “You look like a snowball!”

Ivan only rolled his eyes, voice sardonic. “So funny every time.”

Still, Alfred had to acknowledge the seriousness all this. This was basically Ivan's dream job, and a fresh start in a cute community. Who was Alfred to hold back his best friend of all time? “I guess I'll come with you to that crappy village. Don't want idiots causing you trouble.” _I'd be lost without you_ was unspoken between them with loving gazes. It was something Alfred would never say with words. They didn't need to say these things with crude words.

“My brave champion.” Ivan flirted openly, pulling him into a crushingly affectionate hug.

Alfred was content to be the stronger man's squeeze toy. After a time of cuddles and discussing vague futures together, Alfred wriggled free. “So when do you start?”

“As soon as possible. I already gave enough notice at work.” Ivan replied, getting up himself.

“Well then, we better get packing then, _Doctor_ Braginsky.” Pack they did, preparing the essentials. In mere days, they would be starting their new lives. Lives full of potential, love, and hope for a better future.

**~ The End ~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the people that followed along on this fun little adventure. It ended as gradually as it started, I believe. I hope y'all enjoyed it.


End file.
